


This Love

by autotunedd



Series: Inje [4]
Category: Big Bang (Band), GTOP (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coming Out, M/M, Post Enlistment, Wedding, life after bigbang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2020-12-26 23:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 61,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autotunedd/pseuds/autotunedd
Summary: Seunghyun and Jiyong work through things after Seunghyun comes out to his parents.They finally take a huge step in their r/s.





	1. Chapter 1

After Seunghyun comes out to his parents, they return to Inje. Seunghyun doesn’t want to talk about the specifics of his visit so there are holes in every conversation. Jiyong becomes overly attentive and coddles him, and Seunghyun behaves the same because he still feels bad about their confrontation a week earlier. They step on eggshells with each other because they don’t know what to say.  
  
Jiyong doesn’t want to push Seunghyun into talking before he’s ready. He knows everyone’s experience is different. It was hard to talk about his own coming out and that went pretty well. If Seunghyun’s was less than perfect, it will be that much harder for him. Jiyong makes regular tentative inquiries but Seunghyun shuts him down. He just reiterates his earliest mantra. _Wasn’t good. Wasn’t horrible_. Eventually, Jiyong runs out of creative ways to try and start a conversation about it.  
  
For a week they try to regain a sense of normalcy but it’s difficult with this gap between them, like a hole they have to constantly walk around. Jiyong struggles with not knowing. It’s hard to comfort Seunghyun when he doesn’t know what happened. He can’t tell him the platitudes he normally would to console him until the worst of it is over.  
  
He understands that Seunghyun needs time but it starts to bother him that he won’t talk about it. They have reached a point of unlikely openness with each other, hard won over fifteen years. It’s confronting to suddenly be shut out.  
  
Of course, he isn’t shut out completely. Seunghyun is still himself a lot of the time. He smiles and laughs, they talk about mundane things, they eat together, they spoon at night. Things are okay. It’s just that every now and then Seunghyun will be different. He shuts down and gest upset and Jiyong can’t fix it because he can’t see the pieces to try and put him back together.

  
* * *  
  
  
  
Ten days after they come home, Seunghyun’s phone rings in the kitchen while Jiyong is in the loungeroom and he hears one side of a carefully controlled conversation. Seunghyun doesn’t speak naturally. It sounds like he’s following a script but it isn’t a business call, it’s obviously family. The whole thing sounds foreign, like he is another person entirely. Someone keeping up appearances.  
  
Jiyong strains to hear every word. He feels so helpless and in the dark, any clues or information will be helpful. Seunghyun is obviously struggling with his coming out because he hasn’t said a word about it. This is his second call with family and that only makes Jiyong’s confusion worse. If his coming out was awful, why are they still talking with their old regularity? Even if the tone of their conversations are off, they're still talking. Seunghyun’s mother has called him on the same days she always does. Like clockwork. Isn’t that good?_  
_  
Jiyong cranes his neck over the back of the couch and watches Seunghyun’s back. His head is lowered and his shoulders hunched like he is exhausted, and maybe he is. Whatever happened in Seoul wasn’t an explosion but something else; his parent’s reaction more like an insidious chemical leaking slowly into the air. Whatever happened, Seunghyun becomes a little more affected by it every day.  
  
The call lasts almost fifteen minutes.  
  
Jiyong tries to look busy when Seunghyun enters the loungeroom afterwards but Seunghyun knows he eavesdropped. He’s kind enough not to mention it. He asks a question instead, his voice and mannerisms unreadable. Not quite unemotional but not emotional either.  
  
‘The first conversations you had with your mother after you told her you liked men,’ Seunghyun asks. ‘What were they like?’  
  
Jiyong rests his cheek on the back of the couch and tries to remember.  
  
‘The first was awkward,’ he answers honestly. ‘We tried to have our usual chat like everything was normal, but it was uncomfortable. After a while, she asked about you. I can’t remember exactly what she said. She asked where you were or how you were doing so I answered her. I talked about you and that broke the ice. Our conversations after that were a little easier each time. Eventually, I think she was so excited that I _wanted_ to talk about my life, we overcame the strangeness.’  
  
Seunghyun smiles briefly but it’s wistful.  
  
‘My mother didn’t ask about you,’ he says bluntly. ‘She didn’t ask about me either.’  
  
‘What do you mean? What did you talk about?’  
  
‘She told me about her week and my father’s upcoming retirement. She talked about Yeonjun’s football. He has a competition coming up. She told me about a dispute she’s having with a neighbour about some trees. When she ran out of other people to talk about, she hung up.’  
  
Jiyong’s stomach aches in sympathy. He tries to find a silver lining but it feels disingenuous. She didn’t ask about Seunghyun at all? How is that possible? He leaves room for Seunghyun to continue, to finally open up about what happened between them and how he _feels_ but he doesn’t say anything and it’s obvious that he won’t.  
  
‘It was the first conversation. It may take a little while,’ Jiyong offers instead. ‘At least she’s calling you.’  
  
Seunghyun nods, feeling the hollowness in those words.  
  
‘Right.’

  
  
  
* * *

As the days slowly pass and they roll through the second week post-coming out, whatever happened between Seunghyun and his parents becomes a problem. His emotions seem more deadened each day. His silences longer. Youngbae calls each of them to break the news that Hyorin is on the official baby countdown. She should go into labour some time over the next three weeks. So, they both pack a bag and throw it in the car just in case. Seunghyun, normally excited by the prospect of a baby coming, seems tired and overwhelmed. Jiyong worries. What will Seunghyun be like when the news finally comes and they have to get in the car? They promised each other and Youngbae that they would go to Seoul the second anything happened, that they would be there in person to congratulate the happy couple. What happens if Seunghyun is still miserable and unable to appreciate this incredible moment in their lives?  
  
So, this new unhappiness Seunghyun slips in and out of becomes more serious. It’s something that can’t be fixed by moving to the woods and leaving society behind. If anything, Seunghyun needs the opposite. He needs distractions. He’s still working but it’s not enough. At the end of the day the house is quiet. With only two of them, as much as Jiyong tries, there is ample time for Seunghyun to dwell on his thoughts. As the hours start to feel longer, Jiyong begins to wonder in the back of his mind if this is what does it. If this is what precipitates them re-joining the world. For Seunghyun’s mental health, wouldn’t he do it? If Seunghyun needed to be around people again, wouldn’t he go back to Seoul?  
  
He does what he can to draw Seunghyun out of his shell, to get him to open up about what happened when he came out, but it’s like pulling teeth. Seunghyun is stubborn and won’t budge.  
  
  
  
  
* * *

  
  
  
Eventually, at the beginning of the third week, Seunghyun has a good day. He wakes up feeling refreshed and optimistic. He is his old self again. He laughs and smiles and Jiyong feels the innocuous touches he had begun to miss. Before, Seunghyun was always touching him when they passed each other. Brushing his shoulder, his lower back, touching their fingers together briefly. Small things. Since Seunghyun came out, he has been doing it less and less, too trapped in his own head. But today--- he is himself again. Jiyong watches him move around the house in awe, so glad to see him smile again. So glad to hear his passionate, racing voice talk about some new, niche thing he has discovered.  
  
Seunghyun works for a few hours and they have dinner together. They have a drink together. They laugh. For the first time in a few weeks, Seunghyun initiates intimacy. He pulls Jiyong upstairs and they lay in bed together with their legs intertwined. They kiss for a while. It’s sweet and nice.  
  
Somewhere in the middle of it though, Jiyong feels Seunghyun mentally pull away. Out of desperation, he tries to force Seunghyun to stay in the moment, to get out of his head. He slides his hand down the front of Seunghyun’s pyjama pants and touches him. He wants him to stay in his body. Be _present_. Seunghyun sighs quietly the way he always does, like it feels good, but nothing happens. Jiyong strokes him and jerks him off quietly but Seunghyun doesn’t get hard.  
  
Eventually, Seunghyun grips his wrist tightly to stop him and almost pushes him to the other side of the bed to put distance between them.  
  
_‘Stop! _I can’t--- I—’  
  
Seunghyun sits up and cradles his head in his hands, his voice wavering. He shakes his head, embarrassed.  
  
Jiyong doesn’t sit up. He curls on his side and pulls the blanket up around his chin, staring at a point on the mattress between them. He tries not to feel hurt by this because he knows it’s not about him. God knows, they’ve both had this happen before. Sometimes, you’re just too exhausted or too hurt to get it up. It hasn’t happened in a while though and Seunghyun is the one who initiated this. It’s jarring for it to end this way.  
  
‘It’s not you,’ Seunghyun says quietly. ‘I have a lot on my mind.’  
  
Jiyong closes his eyes and sighs loudly through his nose. Obviously, he thinks. It’s because of the enormous secret he is keeping. Because of whatever Seunghyun has been hurt by that he won’t talk about. Jiyong tries to imagine their life together if this doesn’t get resolved, if this distance and strangeness has a chance to put down roots in this house. He grinds his teeth.  
  
‘You need to tell me what happened when you saw your parents that day. You have to talk to me. Enough is enough.’  
  
Seunghyun shakes his head but when they make eye contact, his shoulders slacken. Seunghyun knows he’s right. That if he doesn’t talk about this now, the problems between them will grow. His misery will get bigger and bigger until it swallows him up. Seunghyun falls back against the mattress and closes his eyes. It takes a minute for him to speak but he finally does. He talks about what happened when he came out to his parents.  
  
‘I told them everything,’ he says quietly, long pauses between his words. ‘They didn’t say anything at first so I tried to explain. I told them everything I could remember and some things I didn’t even know I remembered. The first time I thought I might be gay. The first crush I had in school. When I first realised I had feelings for you. I told them all about our life together. I wanted them to know I’ve been happy. So, I told them all the watered down, polite memories I thought I could share. And it was such a relief to tell them,’ he says. ‘But they didn’t say anything. The whole time, they just--- didn’t say anything. They stared at the floor or at their feet. I thought I was talking to myself.’  
  
Jiyong frowns, staring at Seunghyun’s profile. He remembers from his own coming out, the thing he was most afraid of wasn’t that his mother would scream or hate him, but that she wouldn’t speak at all.  
  
‘What _did_ they say?’  
  
‘Hardly anything,’ Seunghyun says tiredly. ‘When I say they were silent, I mean it. They barely spoke the whole time I was there. They asked who else knew. They asked about your parents knowing. They asked me if I had ever had a girlfriend and when the last one was. And then nothing. Nothing about you and me. Nothing about my life now. Nothing that mattered. They just listened. Afterwards, my mother went into the kitchen and started to prepare lunch. She started talking about an old family friend and asked when I’d last seen him. She just started talking about anything else, you know? My father disappeared. At the very end, it was like it never happened. Like they erased it all and everything was back to normal.’  
  
‘Jesus,’ Jiyong whispers, shocked.  
  
Seunghyun nods, tears clouding his eyes but not falling.  
  
‘They didn’t disown me or call me a disappointment,’ he says emotionally. ‘But they didn’t say anything else either. They didn’t say it was okay to be who I am. What happened the other day on the phone was the same. My mother talked around me.’  
  
Jiyong lets out such a long and genuine sigh. He doesn’t know what to say. It doesn’t seem possible for this to actually happen. No coming out story he’s ever heard has ended in this arrested stage of denial.  
  
‘Maybe I should be grateful they didn’t cause a scene or tell me I was an embarrassment or that I’m disgusting. They politely sat there and listened to me. They never interrupted. That should be a good thing, shouldn’t it?’ Seunghyun turns his head and they make eye contact. ‘But I don’t feel good about it,’ he whispers. ‘I can’t explain how _bad_ I feel.’  
  
Seunghyun sniffs and shakes his head, eyes on the ceiling again.  
  
‘It’s only been two weeks but what if it stays this way?’ he asks. ‘How much time am I supposed to give them? What do I do now?’  
  
‘I don’t know.’  
  
Jiyong’s heart breaks watching Seunghyun’s profile, watching his eyes shine and move from place to place on the ceiling, like he is reliving it again or conjuring up alternative, better scenarios.  
  
Seunghyun is so full of life most of the time. He is such an energetic and unpredictable person, he has so much passion and excitement, and most of their time in Inje has been a balanced divide between that and his more settled self. One day, they are screaming and shouting the house down during an absurd game Seunghyun has invented. The next, they are discussing the future, talking about their assets and whether they should make wills. Their life is multiplicitous and beautiful. Two months ago, Seunghyun moved every piece of furniture in the loungeroom so they could slide around in their socks. Who is he today? Seunghyun has been low for weeks without experiencing any highs. His balance has been shattered.  
  
Seunghyun swallows hard and his next words come out deep and hoarse.  
  
‘I wish my father _had_ called me a disappointment.’  
  
_‘Why?’_  
  
‘Because I’d be vindicated at least. I could tell myself the problem is them, not me. The problem is their ignorance. They accost me because they don’t understand. Right? That’s easier to digest.’  
  
‘But this?’  
  
‘This? I don’t know,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘Maybe my true self is so insignificant, I’m not worth a strong emotion for them. Apparently, who I am isn’t worth _acknowledging.’_  
  
Jiyong grabs Seunghyun’s arm on the mattress and squeezes.  
  
‘That’s not true.’  
  
‘That’s how I _feel_,’ Seunghyun whispers, his face contorting. ‘It feels like I don’t exist. Like I don’t matter to them at all. I just wanted them to say it was okay. But they couldn’t say anything. Nothing at all. _Why?’  
_  
Jiyong frowns deeply. It’s hard for him to imagine what this is actually like for Seunghyun but he can see the devastation this has caused. He has no idea what to do.  
  
‘I told them we were _engaged,_’ Seunghyun says. ‘I was the one who proposed. I showed them my ring. I told them how much I loved you and they didn’t have a reaction. There was no emotion from them at all,’ he questions. ‘Whenever they spoke it was clinical, like a psychiatrist talking to a patient without bringing up anything personal.’  
  
Seunghyun spoke to his parents for three hours and told them _everything_. He laid himself bare to them. He allowed them to _see_ him for the very first time and they looked through him. They didn’t acknowledge it? What do you do after that?  
  
‘I don’t know what they’re doing, Seunghyun, but whatever is going on, it’s _them_. It has nothing to do with who you are,’ Jiyong pleads. ‘Maybe they just need a bit more time. It has to mean something that they _listened_ to you, that they still want you in their lives. Your mother has called you three times since then.’  
  
‘But it’s not _me_ she wants to talk to_.’  
_   
Jiyong swallows hard and laces his fingers through Seunghyun’s. He squeezes. He doesn’t know what else to do.

* * *

Things are a little better after Seunghyun finally talks about what happened and how he feels. At least now, Jiyong has some idea of what’s going on. He can try and say the right things. He can be more attentive around the house. They try to recapture some of their earlier routine but it is frequently interrupted by Seunghyun’s interactions with his family. From the outside, it’s hard to comprehend what seems to be going on. Seunghyun talks to his parents with surprising regularity without getting anything from them. No approval _or_ disapproval. It’s like he never came out at all. They manage to go on co-existing despite this black hole growing between them. At some point, Seunghyun laughs on the phone and the dichotomy and strangeness of it all makes Jiyong’s head ache.  
  
He pushes Seunghyun to come out to his sister. Remembering the support his own sister was, he thinks it’s worth a shot. More than anything, Seunghyun desperately needs someone in his family to hear him and acknowledge him. He needs to feel seen and heard. Jiyong expects Seunghyun to reject the idea outright but he doesn’t. He agrees. The prospect of telling her doesn’t set his teeth chattering or his hands shaking the way it did for his parents. Jiyong can’t tell if he’s less fearful because he has higher hopes for his sister, or if his experience with his parents has been so incomprehensible, he feels he has nothing left to lose.  
  
Surprisingly, Seunghyun doesn’t talk to her in person. He does it over the phone without warning. When Jiyong walks up the stairs one afternoon, he stumbles into it by accident. Seunghyun is on the phone in the bedroom. Jiyong stops on the third step from the top and catches the exact moment Seunghyun tells her. For the third time, it’s an unceremonious and simple coming out. If there was a lead-up or an explanatory preamble, Jiyong doesn’t catch it. Instead, he hears Seunghyun’s side of a conversation so emotionless and dejected, it’s hard to believe it’s so important and potentially life changing. Telling someone he loves should be frightening but _liberating_. Instead, it sounds like a chore.  
  
Seunghyun tells his sister he’s gay and answers what sound like pretty standard questions. Yes, he’s always known. He has been in a relationship for a decade. Kwon Jiyong. Inje. Telling his parents a few weeks ago. A feeble explanation for why he couldn’t tell her sooner. He says sardonically near the end, _I hope you’ll still be my sister_. A few minutes later, _you can tell your husband but I don’t want Yeonjun to know.  
  
_When Jiyong finally enters the bedroom, the conversation is over and Seunghyun is standing in the ensuite, looking at his reflection in the mirror with a blank face. There’s so little life in him it makes Jiyong feel sick. He has seen Seunghyun low before but seeing him like this in Inje breaks the illusion of this home being somewhere safe and happy. Things can still hurt them here. This can’t always be a refuge.  
  
He leans against the doorframe and Seunghyun looks at his reflection instead of directly at him.  
  
‘I heard you on the stairs.’  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Jiyong answers. ‘I listened.’  
  
Seunghyun shrugs.  
  
For some reason, before asking the most important question, Jiyong asks another one instead. Maybe he is gripped with a sudden fear that this whole situation has made Seunghyun feel ashamed of who he is.  
  
‘You don’t want Yeonjun to know you’re gay?’  
  
Seunghyun scoffs, a quiet clipped laugh like he knows what’s behind the question.  
  
‘He’s ten. Kids can’t keep secrets.’  
  
Jiyong smiles faintly, praying to God this answer never changes. That this experience doesn’t cow Seunghyun or make him feel ashamed. Seunghyun shrugs again and Jiyong sees the tension in his neck and shoulders when he speaks.  
  
‘She said she loved me before she hung up.’  
  
‘That’s _great_, isn’t it?’  
  
‘Sure. Love makes the world go round.’  
  
Seunghyun’s answer comes in a voice so emotionless it makes Jiyong _ache_. He slips into the bathroom and leans against the sink, putting himself between Seunghyun and his reflection. He doesn’t know how to help him. He had this crippling fear of his own parents not acknowledging him, but he hasn’t experienced it. He can’t relate to what Seunghyun is going through. He can’t even _imagine_ the toll it would take if he came out to his parents and they pretended it never happened. How long has Seunghyun been dealing with this incomprehensible reality? Only a few weeks? Already, he is becoming a ghost.  
  
Jiyong cups Seunghyun’s face and tries to shake some hope into him.  
  
‘It won’t always be this hard,’ he whispers. ‘I promise things will get better. Please don’t let your parents do this to you. Don’t let them hurt you like this.’  
  
It’s a stupid thing to say because you don’t get to choose what hurts you, but he doesn’t know what else to say. Seunghyun’s emotions have become like a rollercoaster. Some days he’s his usual self, vibrant and happy. Other days, he slips suddenly into this deadened state of no emotion. It’s putting a strain on their relationship. Not anything they won’t survive, but it’s _needless_ and Jiyong has run out of ways to help him. He can’t fix a situation he’s not directly involved in. Seunghyun’s parents have to take responsibility for themselves or Seunghyun has to find a way to shield himself.  
  
‘At least I still have a sister,’ Seunghyun says quietly. _‘Family,’_ he enunciates.  
  
Jiyong holds Seunghyun’s face tighter and frowns.  
  
_‘I_ love you,’ he says forcefully. ‘I’m still here. Don’t forget that.’  
  
For a moment, Seunghyun looks him in the eye and smiles. He closes the space between them and kisses him unexpectedly, then buries his face in Jiyong’s shoulder and _hugs_ him. Jiyong wraps him in his arms so tightly Seunghyun must struggle to breathe, but it doesn’t matter. They stay like that for twenty minutes.

  
  
* * *

Two days later, Seunghyun’s phone rings while he’s in the shower and Jiyong checks the caller ID. It’s Seunghyun’s mother. He starts to yell out for him but cuts himself off. His finger hovers over the green button instead.  
  
In a perfect world, what would he say to Seunghyun’s mother if he answered this phone? Would he chastise her for making Seunghyun’s life a misery, or would he beg her to fix it? Would he explain the damage her reaction to Seunghyun being gay has caused? The worst part of Seunghyun’s crushing disappointment and hurt is not being able to fix it. He can only support him. He can’t put the pieces back together. It’s one of the few things not in his power to do. _That_ makes him angry. He is _angry_ because the person on the other end of this phone _can_ fix it but hasn’t. Maybe she doesn’t know. Maybe she has no idea what she’s doing to him.  
  
_Can’t I tell her?_  
  
‘Hello?’  
  
He answers Seunghyun’s phone and there is silence on the line while she tries to figure out who has answered.  
  
‘It’s Kwon Jiyong. Seunghyun is in the shower.’  
  
There is another prolonged silence until she finally speaks, and it’s hurtful in a way because she sounds the way she always has. She doesn’t sound beaten down like Seunghyun does. She doesn’t sound wary or disappointed or excitable. Nothing out of the ordinary. She speaks to him the way she always has, polite but distanced. There is no change to her voice at all.  
  
‘Oh. Hello,’ she says.  
  
‘Hi, Mrs Choi. Is it important?' he asks. 'Do you want me to go get him?’  
  
‘No,’ she answers simply. ‘It’s not urgent. Tell him I’ll call again later, please.’  
  
‘Alright.’  
  
For a moment, there is a window of silence and Jiyong wants to say something. He wants to kick the metaphorical door down and make her face what Seunghyun told her, but she speaks first and doesn’t leave him a good enough opening. In a pleasant voice she says a simple and polite goodbye and hangs up.  
  
Jiyong stares at the phone after the call ends. He didn’t expect her talk about the gay thing unprompted. But to act so normal? To do what Seunghyun has described and simply avoid it altogether? Her sense of normalcy shocks him.  
  
She _knows_. He and Seunghyun have been together for over ten years and she knows that. She knows they are living together. She knows they are engaged. She knows they have a beautiful, happy life together because Seunghyun told her so. Things aren’t the way they were before. How can she pretend otherwise? It would be easier if she sounded uncomfortable on the phone. That would signify she’s wrestling with some unspoken _feeling_. And feelings can be altered and shaped for the better. But without that?  
  
When Seunghyun comes down the stairs, Jiyong hands him his phone.  
  
‘Your mother called.’  
  
Seunghyun nods dismissively but balks when he checks the log.  
  
‘You answered it?’  
  
‘Yeah.’  
  
‘What did she say to you?’  
  
Jiyong shrugs.  
  
‘Nothing. She said she’d call you back later and that was it’. He intuits Seunghyun’s fears and shakes his head. ‘She wasn’t rude.’  
  
‘But she wasn’t nice either, right? She acted like nothing was going on.’  
  
Jiyong nods in confirmation, feeling unsettled to be drawn into this strange play where people know about them and pretend not to. He understands Seunghyun’s silence in the car when he first came out. How can you talk about this? It’s so bizarre it defies words.  
  
Seunghyun lets out a short, clipped laugh and drops his phone on the counter. For a few minutes they mill about the room in silence until Seunghyun mutters something tired and unintelligible and joins him on the couch. Jiyong is surprised when Seunghyun pulls his hand into his and laces their fingers together.  
  
When Seunghyun speaks, it’s a little lighter than usual. A little less burdened. Jiyong turns with interest.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Seunghyun says, resting his cheek on the back of the couch.  
  
‘For what?’  
  
‘For my mother?’ He jests. ‘For me. For the last few weeks being difficult.’  
  
Jiyong tries to dispute it but Seunghyun cuts him off.  
  
‘I don’t know how to live in this strange universe where this stuff with my parents is going on,’ he explains. ‘It’s like they have amnesia or something but _I_ remember. I remember telling them. I remember reaching out to them and--- nothing.’  
  
Jiyong squeezes his fingers and Seunghyun continues.  
  
‘I feel embarrassed. I don’t know how to get past it. I don’t know how to talk to them. If I try again, what happens? What if they keep doing this? What if they never say what I want them to say? If they never acknowledge this? How far will it go?’  
  
‘I really don’t know,’ Jiyong answers honestly.  
  
‘My sister was shocked when I told her,’ Seunghyun says, ‘but she said she loved me. That’s all I wanted and I couldn’t even be happy about that because my parents broke my brain.’  
  
Jiyong frowns because he’s right. That should have been such a beautiful, overwhelming moment of relief for him and it wasn’t. Seunghyun was robbed of something meaningful.  
  
‘My sister _loves_ me as I am, even if she doesn’t understand yet. She still loves me _right now_. She said what I wanted her to say.’ Seunghyun clears his throat and shakes his head like he’s getting rid of some invisible demons. ‘I have a good life,’ he says resolutely. ‘I love you. I love our life. I love my job. And--- I have a sister who loves _me_. I want to focus on those things.’  
  
Jiyong smiles faintly and pulls Seunghyun’s hand further into his lap so both of his hands are cradling Seunghyun’s fingers.  
  
‘I want you to be able to do that.’  
  
‘My mother should have said more to you.’  
  
‘You’re making this resolution because your mother didn’t chat with me on the phone?’  
  
‘You’re my partner and she didn’t ask how you were?’  
  
‘Not today.’  
  
‘Before I told her about me, she would have asked about you. You know that too. She would have asked how you are. She would have made some effort like she used to when you were my brother and my bandmate. Now that you’re my partner, she can’t? I have to deal with them treating me strangely _and_ you too? From now on, we’ll just be talked _at_ … not to’.  
  
Jiyong smiles sympathetically.  
  
‘I don’t know if I would read that much into it, but if it makes you want to focus on the good in your life, I’m glad.’  
  
Seunghyun smiles back and it’s genuine but laced with disappointments he can’t fully shake off. Jiyong feels a tiny spur of anxiety flare to life in his stomach. He doesn’t know why but he feels compelled to say something.  
  
‘Seunghyun, I know this is fucking horrible for you. I can’t pretend to know what any of this is like but I promise you, it will get better and easier. I don’t know how, but I’ve never broken a promise to you in my life and this won’t be the first time. We’ll figure it out. We’ll fix this.’  
  
Seunghyun squeezes his fingers like it’s a pleasant but empty promise.  
  
‘Maybe my parents will come around,’ he answers gently. ‘Maybe they won’t. Life shouldn’t stop in the meantime. I don’t want to lose my job because I’m distracted and miserable,’ he sighs, implying his performance has already suffered and been noticed. ‘And I don’t want to lose _you_ because I’m bitter and angry all the time.’  
  
‘You weren’t going to lose me, but I can’t say I disagree about the rest of it,’ Jiyong answers. ‘Your life can’t stop because of this. You’ve worked too hard to _be_ here, to be _happy_. I don’t know when your parents will wake up to themselves but they _will_, even if I have to force them’.  
  
Seunghyun laughs quietly and Jiyong smiles but he is surprised, deep down in his gut, to realise he is capable of it. If getting on his knees in their living room, begging them to be better, will make a difference, he’ll do it.  
  
In the back of his mind, an idea starts to coalesce.  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
For the next few days, Seunghyun is in a pretty good mood. He throws himself back into his work with renewed vigour and makes a dozen phone calls each day that make the house feel like a boardroom. It’s nice though, to see Seunghyun passionate again.  
  
No longer occupied with concern for Seunghyun, Jiyong mellows out a bit himself and tries to get back to his own personal routine. He texts friends and paints and hammers out a little tune in the home studio. One afternoon, he visits Mrs Lee for a chat and she asks him to take her out. He has to comically feel her forehead as a test of wellness, usually so proud and independent, her request surprises him.  
  
She wants to go shopping but her arthritis is playing up so Jiyong drives her into town, wraps a scarf around his face, and walks at a snail’s pace beside her. She is slow but steady on her feet, a walker doing the heavy lifting. They chit-chat and catch up. He makes an excuse for not visiting in a while. She tells him about her son finally getting a better job, and about her grandkid. She talks about a bird that keeps knocking on her window in the mornings. They just waste time, talking and wandering in and out of stores. It becomes obvious to him after a while that she didn’t want to buy anything in particular, she just wanted company. She wanted to get out the house and breathe for a while.  
  
He chastises himself for not visiting more often. He just go so wrapped up in Seunghyun’s problems, he let everything else fall away. Maybe now for the first time he sees this woman for what she is. Someone vibrantly alive and witty and funny and challenging, but--- also someone fragile and alone. He has adopted this woman into his heart and he has to do better.  
  
He has to do better for Seunghyun too. He has to figure this thing with his family out. They can’t go on like this, with Seunghyun living this half-life with his parents. No matter how many good days he has, the lack of acknowledgement from them will slowly erode his happiness. They can run from it, but it will catch up to them.  
  
‘What’s on your mind?’ Mrs Lee asks him.  
  
‘Nothing. I was just admiring this gorgeous duck,’ he jests, turning a bronze figurine in his hands. She tuts and puts it back on the shelf, shooing him out of the store.  
  
Back on the street she physically jabs him in the side and it _genuinely_ hurts.  
  
‘What’s on your mind?’ she asks again.  
  
‘I already tol—_ow, what the f—’ _Jiyong clutches his side in very real pain, awed by the power in one boney old finger. Was she in the war? Was she a spy? She obviously has a healthy knowledge of torture techniques. He presses against his rib gently like he expects to find it broken.  
  
‘What’s bothering you?’  
  
‘My _ribs,’_ he answers churlishly. Seeing her gear up for another poke, he literally side steps off the sidewalk to get away from her. Stepping back up a moment later, he raises his hands in surrender and rolls his eyes. ‘I have some stuff going on at home. I have a lot on my mind.’  
  
‘Talk!’  
  
He is about to sass her but out of genuine fear of losing his bottom two ribs, he finds himself talking to her about what is going on. Heavily edited of course. In his story, Seunghyun has become a woman and the denial of his parents has been reduced to a simple dislike of Seunghyun’s choice of partner. He makes Seunghyun sound like a chaebol princess whose parents wanted him to marry better and have consequently cut her off.  
  
‘I want to fix this somehow. I want to talk to her parents personally but I don’t know if _she_'_d_ want me to,’ Jiyong asks carefully. ‘And I don’t want to ask her in case she says no and forbids me’.  
  
‘It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind to talk to them’.  
  
‘Maybe I have,’ he grimaces. ‘Is that the wrong thing to do? I’ve never been in this situation. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to make this right or get them to understand’.  
  
‘What is it you want them to understand? What do you think talking to them will accomplish, if she’s already tried and failed?’  
  
Jiyong kicks a rock up the sidewalk and shoves his hands in his pockets.  
  
‘I want them to know I love her and that she loves me. Isn’t that enough?’ When Mrs Lee doesn’t answer, Jiyong continues thoughtfully. ‘I suppose I want them to know how happy she is with me. _Because_ of me. Don’t all parents want their children to be happy? She’s been lying to them for years because she was afraid they wouldn’t accept her. That means they don’t even know her. Not who she really is, but I _do_ know her. I want them to know her the way I do. I want them to see her through my eyes and realise nothing else matters except her happiness. Nobody on Earth can do more for her than I can. It’s the one thing I know without any question. They should know that, shouldn’t they? Am I crazy? Can’t I make an appeal?’  
  
She pats his elbow sympathetically.  
  
‘It doesn’t sound so unreasonable.’  
  
‘Okay. So what if I do that and it makes things worse?’ Jiyong asks. ‘What if they never speak to her again out of spite, because of what I did and said to them?’  
  
Mrs Lee stops outside a shop window and seems to be looking at the products on display like she has forgotten all about him. Eventually she turns her head back to him and shrugs.  
  
‘You can’t be afraid to stand up for the people you love.’  
  
Jiyong smiles faintly and sighs, wondering how different her answer might be if he told her the truth. If she knew he was a jaded celebrity trying to forge a new life with the man he loves.  
  
‘Thanks’.  
  
  
  
  
* * *

  
  
  
The next morning, Jiyong is freshly showered and halfway through what will remain an _incredibly secret and devious plan to potentially speak to Seunghyun’s parents if the need absolutely calls for it_. He is sitting on the end of their bed, scrolling through photos on his phone, wondering which of these happy mementos of their life he would show Seunghyun’s family if he had to choose.  
  
Seunghyun’s panicked voice calls out to him from downstairs and Jiyong literally drops his phone in surprise. Seunghyun sounds so desperate and unlike himself, Jiyong panics. He practically sprints down the stairs.  
  
Half expecting to find Seunghyun with a knife in one hand and three missing fingers on the other, he finds there hasn’t been a physical disaster at all. Seunghyun isn’t hurt. He is standing stock still outside the kitchen though with his phone on the counter behind him. He looks like he’s seen a ghost.  
  
‘Jesus, what happened?’ Jiyong asks. ‘Are you okay?’  
  
Seunghyun’s lips part and his face somehow grows more surprised by the second. It takes time for him to actually speak but when he does, he sounds completely dazed.  
  
‘The National Museum of Korea are holding an exhibition in four months to celebrate their 103rd anniversary. They just asked me to be the guest curator.’  
  
Jiyong’s jaw drops and he doesn’t say anything. Seunghyun was so honoured to curate for Sotheby’s but his own pronouncement followed a line of other global celebrities. His pride came from being the first Korean idol, and from knowing what used to be a side interest had become a flourishing passion that other people recognised. It was one of the highlights of his life outside of BIGBANG. But this? The National Museum? This is recognition and prestige of a different kind, and one that isn’t weighted on his celebrity because for all anyone knows, Seunghyun is retired from music and has been for months. Even if he goes back to it, which he undoubtedly will when he’s ready, he has been missing from the public eye. This offer isn’t extended to T.O.P but Choi Seunghyun, prolific art collector.  
  
For a moment they stare at each other in shock, and then Seunghyun lets out a crisp laugh and Jiyong smiles too for a moment, mulling over one point of absurdity.  
  
‘Are 103rd anniversaries important?’  
  
‘They’ve been doing it since the 100th. I guess every year after 100 is an achievement, right?’  
  
Jiyong shakes himself out of his daze and closes the distance between them to slap Seunghyun’s chest.  
  
‘Holy shit! This is so fucking amazing. Did you accept?’  
  
Seunghyun shrugs. He has a bewildered smile on his face.  
  
‘Of course’.  
  
Jiyong grins and touches Seunghyun’s face in complete awe. He has been passionate about art for years and years but to come here, to this place in the middle of nowhere, take a job at a small gallery just to learn the ropes, and do his job so passionately and so well that he is offered an opportunity like _this_? Seunghyun has been working on some level since the day they came here. There are papers scattered around the house and his phone is always ringing. He has stayed active on Instagram, sharing the work of artists he admires. He has been away a few times on brief trips overseas and met some of them. Likewise, he has taken a few weekends to Seoul to meet them too. He has been growing his connections, putting in the labour. He has learned so much and given so much. He has earned this.  
  
‘I’m so happy for you,’ Jiyong says quietly. ‘I’m so fucking _proud_ of you. Oh my God!’  
  
Seunghyun smiles and it is so broad and beautiful and so full of self-pride, something Jiyong doesn’t authentically see in him very often. It’s _amazing_. Seunghyun has accomplished so much in his life but he always has a thread of insecurity that stops him from being conceited. All the same, today he is _proud_ of himself.  
  
Jiyong kisses him and wraps his arms around Seunghyun’s middle.  
  
‘I’m _really_ going to have to start working again, with you becoming such a paragon of success in the art world,’ he says. ‘People will think I’m your kept man’.  
  
‘My trophy husband!’  
  
‘I would wear it well’.  
  
Seunghyun’s phone rings and vibrates across the counter. Jiyong lets Seunghyun go and frowns when Seunghyun frowns. He doesn’t like whichever name is on the caller ID.  
  
‘Who is it?’ Jiyong asks.  
  
‘My mother’.  
  
_‘Answer it,’_ Jiyong presses. ‘You have such big news! You should tell her.’  
  
Seunghyun hesitates and shakes his head. He lets the phone ring out. When it finally stops, they are both silent until Seunghyun notices the concerned look on Jiyong’s face and shrugs, ambivalent.  
  
‘She doesn’t want to know _all_ of me. Why should I tell her about this?’  
  
‘Your family would be so _proud_ of you.’  
  
‘They should be proud of me already,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘They can’t pick and choose which parts of me they acknowledge. I’m not telling them. They can find out through the media like everyone else.’  
  
Jiyong frowns deeper, saddened that things have come to this. That this horrible rift can be opening up in Seunghyun’s family without a harsh word ever passing between them. If it goes on much longer, they will become estranged without ever talking about the reasons why. Seunghyun looks equally troubled so Jiyong dispels the tension. He forces the threatening sadness out of the room.  
  
‘Okay!’ he exclaims loudly, throwing his arms out. ‘Drinks? We have to celebrate! You’re a nationally recognised art genius now! Suck it, netizens! Red wine or white?’  
  
‘Red please,’ Seunghyun smiles and his shoulders slacken as he relaxes.  
  
Jiyong wants to talk about this family stuff so badly, but it never feels like the time and this certainly isn’t it. This moment is about Seunghyun and celebrating his accomplishments and his happiness. Seunghyun’s emotions have been all over the place for weeks. They need to focus on something good. Seunghyun needs to feel happy and proud of himself without anything taking away from it.

* * *

  
Seunghyun laughs so loudly, his arm swings and wine sloshes to the rim of his glass. Jiyong shoots an arm out to stabilise it and stop Seunghyun from ruining the couch. He is laughing too, scolding him with tears in his eyes.  
  
‘Stop laughing! It’s not funny!’  
  
They have been celebrating long enough that a bottle of wine sits empty on the coffee table and a second is half gone. They are tipsy but not drunk. For a while, they talked about Seunghyun’s new opportunity and what it actually means. He shared what details he knows so far but there aren’t many. A full information packet is being sent in the mail and the museum will be back in touch. They mused on the whole big thing for a while. Jiyong pointed out the rarity of it. How many people get to live their dreams twice? That Seunghyun has become successful in two different fields is _incredible_. How blessed he is. That got them onto reminiscing about the early days of BIGBANG and Seunghyun told an embarrassing story about himself that Jiyong had never heard. Jiyong countered with his own previously untold story and Seunghyun laughed so hard his throat went hoarse.  
  
‘I don’t think I could have kissed you that first time if I saw that happen to you,’ Seunghyun says, referring to Jiyong’s tale of teen embarrassment.  
  
‘Oh fuck off,’ Jiyong croons. ‘Your story was so much worse. And you didn’t kiss me, it was a mutual kiss. You can’t take credit for that.’  
  
‘Our first kiss? I definitely kissed you first and I absolutely take credit,’ Seunghyun says seriously, finishing the wine left in his glass. He points a finger in Jiyong’s direction and squints, like he’s looking at him through the sight of a gun. ‘I singled you out. _I_ kissed _you._’  
  
Jiyong pauses a moment at the audacity and then laughs.  
  
‘You did not. I was there. You pinched my cheeks,’ he says, gesturing with his fingers, ‘and sucked the smoke out of my mouth, and it just happened. You didn’t lean right in.’  
  
Seunghyun shakes his head and puts his empty wine glass on the coffee table and holds his palms up in an entreaty.  
  
‘I leaned.’  
  
Jiyong finishes his own wine off and puts his glass beside Seunghyun’s, inching closer to him on the couch.  
  
‘Like _that!_’ Seunghyun affirms loudly, borderline drunk. ‘I stepped closer.’  
  
‘So did I,’ Jiyong laughs. ‘It was a_ mutual_ kiss.’  
  
Seunghyun waves his hands like he can dispel this false memory from the air around them. He gestures for Jiyong to come closer and rolls his sleeves up like he’s about to get some work done.  
  
‘Let’s re-enact it. I think you’ll find I’m right as always.’  
  
‘What a charming excuse to kiss me.’  
  
‘No, no, no. This is a re-enactment. Like the fake murders on the crime channel’.  
  
‘Oh,’ Jiyong nods. ‘Of course’.  
  
He scoots closer to Seunghyun anyway until there’s only a few inches between them on the couch. It’s an awkward position and obviously nothing like their first kiss but Seunghyun is putting on an impressive display of fake professionalism, like a scientist carrying out an experiment. He talks them through their first kiss from his perspective until he presses Jiyong’s cheeks the way he did that first time. Jiyong laughs quietly but Seunghyun doesn’t acknowledge it. Then, Seunghyun leans forward and kisses him.  
  
It’s a nice kiss but it’s fleeting because Seunghyun breaks it off early to conclude his show. He is adamant that he _leaned_, taking credit for their very first kiss after a shared a cigarette outside the old YG building.  
  
‘That’s how you remember it?’ Jiyong asks. _‘Liar.’_  
  
He slaps the hand Seunghyun is resting on his arm away and straddles him on the couch. Seunghyun straightens out with both feet on the floor so he can sit on him more comfortably.  
  
‘Well, I don’t remember you climbing into my lap.’  
  
‘Are you sure?’ Jiyong asks. ‘I definitely remember our first kiss this way.’  
  
Seunghyun squeezes his ass and Jiyong takes that as a good sign. He and Seunghyun haven’t been intimate in weeks. Just to make out for a while would be so nice. They have reason to celebrate after all and Seunghyun is drunk! There couldn’t _be_ a better time.  
  
‘I’m going to kiss you now,’ Jiyong says sternly. ‘For _at least_ ten minutes.’  
  
Seunghyun smiles and it’s so broad and open and genuine, Jiyong is overwhelmed. It feels like he hasn’t had access to the real Seunghyun for weeks, or not all of him anyway. Here he is now, smiling back at him like he never went away.  
  
So, they meet in the middle. Jiyong holds Seunghyun’s face and kisses him the way they do on lazy nights, with slow intensity and passion, savouring the taste of him, savouring the feel of his lips. For weeks, they have been relegated to brief pecks. It hasn’t felt like enough. And Seunghyun is responsive. There is none of the hesitation and distraction of their last attempt at intimacy. Seunghyun’s tongue is warm and receptive and his hands roam. Jiyong bites Seunghyun’s bottom lip and smiles. It’s so nice to taste him and feel him and breathe him in.  
  
‘Wow, our first kiss was good,’ Seunghyun mutters between each deep kiss. He sounds happy and contented and a little out of breath, which is how Jiyong wants him. The sentiment is nice too. Their first kiss _was_ good. That’s what made it so bizarre. An unprompted, unthought about kiss with a friend had no right to be that pleasant.  
  
Jiyong repositions himself and practically sits on Seunghyun’s groin. He is more comfortable now and can feel him better. He can feel his warmth through his shirt. He feels the heat from his groin. It’s nice. He tries to manage his excitement but it’s hard because they haven’t been intimate in weeks and even though he can live without it, he enjoys it. It’s important to him that they have this kind of time together. He has _missed_ it. So he doesn’t just kiss Seunghyun, he runs his fingers through his hair and gropes him in innocuous places. Seunghyun touches him back, fingers travelling up his sides and behind his shoulders, a gentle touch to the hollow of his neck.  
  
Jiyong plants smaller kisses down the side of Seunghyun’s face and savours the warmth of his breath against his cheek. He kisses Seunghyun’s forehead and his temple, his cheekbone and his nose. He kisses his jaw and the side of his mouth.  
  
_‘I’ve missed this.’_  
  
Seunghyun responds by gripping his thighs so tightly Jiyong grimaces in pain. Maybe it’s in recognition of the reasons they _haven’t_ been intimate lately. Because Seunghyun hasn’t been up to it and hasn’t felt like it. Completely understandable but the burden is still his. He seems willing to make up for it now though. Seunghyun captures his lips and some part of Jiyong goes straight to heaven because Seunghyun takes the lead and it becomes obvious that he needs this, that he has missed their intimacy too. Seunghyun’s hands travel up his shirt, warm fingertips tracing firm lines up Jiyong’s ribcage to his pecs.  
  
Jiyong squirms from the touch and _feels_ Seunghyun beneath him, impotent no longer. He breaks the kiss and rolls his hips to make sure.  
  
‘You’re hard.’  
  
Not completely but almost there. Seunghyun looks down like he has only just become aware of where he is and what he’s doing. He rocks up as if to confirm it and Jiyong feels the swell of his erection against his ass.  
  
‘Yeah. Seems like it.’  
  
Jiyong smiles, his tongue in the corner of his mouth. Considering the last time they tried to fool around Seunghyun couldn’t get it up, this is a welcome development. Jiyong scoots back, closer to Seunghyun’s knees, so he can press a hand over Seunghyun’s cock and gently squeeze him. He’s warm. Seunghyun moves into his touch and Jiyong can’t resist. He massages him through his trousers. The thinner fabric means he can feel the outline of his cock better. It’s a little obscene the way it looks, stroking a hard cock through fabric. It’s kind of sexy though. It makes him recall old fantasies of being more daring in public. Of touching Seunghyun beneath a table at a meeting. He never did it, of course, the risks were too high, but at night--- he could imagine whatever he wanted to.  
  
Seunghyun huffs a little breath of relief at the contact between them and gives Jiyong a daring look.  
  
‘It will be easier if you undo the buttons,’ he says.  
  
Jiyong scoffs at Seunghyun’s forwardness but he doesn’t have to be told twice. He genuinely doesn’t think about it. He moves on instinct because he wants so desperately to touch Seunghyun. He wants to be close to him again.  
  
He undoes the buttons of Seunghyun’s trousers and yanks them down a few inches to get his cock out. He takes Seunghyun in his hand. He’s almost fully hard and Jiyong gives a few experimental strokes. Seunghyun cock twitches almost immediately, springing back towards his stomach. It literally swells in Jiyong’s fingers, warm and flushed. He’s extra sensitive today. Pent up maybe.  
  
Jiyong smirks and spits in his hand.  
  
‘Well this shouldn’t take long.’  
  
Seunghyun laughs and drops his head back, releasing a quiet grunt of relief when Jiyong starts stroking his cock in earnest. Seunghyun’s breathing changes. Jiyong watches him relax, completely unburdened for the first time in weeks. He has needed this release, to get out of his head and back into his body.  
  
‘Do you remember the first time we did _this?_’ Jiyong asks.  
  
He tightens his grip and Seunghyun groans quietly, lips parting in hard-won pleasure. His voice is unsteady when he answers but they maintain their eye contact.  
  
‘What? A hand job or a hand job like _this?’  
_  
‘Both.’  
  
Seunghyun laughs quietly and slides his hands up Jiyong’s sides.  
  
‘I remember. Somehow. We’ve had a lot of first times.’  
  
Jiyong laughs at the intimation. Despite being a little conventional in the bedroom, they’ve had a prolific sex life.  
  
‘Well, practice makes perfect,’ Jiyong explains. He sits up and puts his weight on his knees for a moment so he can yank Seunghyun’s pants down further. It’s still a tight space, but when he sits back down, he can slide his second hand between Seunghyun’s thighs and squeeze his balls. He does and Seunghyun’s eyes close tightly and his thighs tense. His whole body momentarily tenses.  
  
_‘Perfect,_’ Seunghyun whispers.  
  
‘Open your eyes. Keep looking at me.’  
  
Seunghyun does as he’s told and Jiyong smiles at the way he is trying to control his expression. How long has it been since he last gave Seunghyun a hand-job? They haven’t had sex in _weeks_ so it’s been longer than that because foreplay is usually a blow job, not hand stuff.  
  
He rolls his palm over the head of Seunghyun’s cock whose eyelids flutter in response. It’s one of the simplest tricks in his arsenal. From this alone, Seunghyun could cum so quickly. Of course the trick is making it last. Switching things up to prolong the enjoyment. He squeezes the base of Seunghyun’s cock tightly and slowly drags the tight ring of his fingers back up the shaft. Seunghyun shudders.  
  
‘When did you last cum?’ Jiyong asks. ‘Have you been jerking off?’  
  
‘No. I couldn’t get in the mood.’  
  
Jiyong wonders if that means he never tried, or if he tried and found himself impotent from stress like he did a week earlier. It isn’t that important but there have been so few times either of them genuinely couldn’t get it up. The stress it takes to really _try_ and fail? He prays the worst of Seunghyun’s stress is over now. Of all the things to ruin their sex life, Seunghyun’s parents shouldn’t be one of them.  
  
So, he tries to make sure this one counts. This should make up for an entire month of unwilling celibacy. This hand-job should be _so good_ that Seunghyun is permanently cured of misery.  
  
Jiyong spits in his hand and rubs the head of Seunghyun’s cock until it’s slick and red, massaging it between his thumb and forefinger. He knows exactly what that feels like and he anticipates Seunghyun’s response, relishing in how quickly it undoes him. He tightens his grip and focuses his attention just below the head. Seunghyun is pink and slick and hot in his hand. His cock is a beautiful sight. Years ago, this fact let him know he definitely _was_ interested in men, that he wasn’t just swept up in a platonic crush.  
  
It takes so little time to pull Seunghyun to the edge. For a moment Jiyong thinks about torturing him. He could edge him and draw this out for half an hour but Seunghyun deserves to cum. He’s had a rough month. So, he just finishes him off. Seunghyun’s balls tighten, his whole body tenses. Jiyong waits for his release but Seunghyun shoots a hand out and grabs his wrist roughly to stop him.  
  
_‘Stop, stop, stop’._  
  
‘What? Why?’  
  
Jiyong withdraws his hand and raises an eyebrow. Seunghyun’s cock springs back against his stomach of his own accord and back again. It twitches. He is so _close._  
  
‘I don’t want to--- like this. I mean—’ Seunghyun shakes his head, a smile on his face. He takes a slow, deep breath so he can speak properly and think more clearly. ‘What I mean to say is--- go get some lube and come back with your pants off.’  
  
Jiyong releases a short, clipped laugh.  
  
‘Okay.’  
  
He was content to give Seunghyun a hand-job and enjoy his body without all the tension he’s been carrying around, but sex would be nice. He has missed it. The only difference between them is he _has_ managed to jerk off a few times since the last time they did it. He isn’t as pent up as Seunghyun but he has very little stamina right now.  
  
So, he grabs the lube upstairs and takes his time to give Seunghyun some _recovery_ time. There’s no use having sex if it ends in thirty seconds. Back in the lounge-room, he slowly takes his pants off and makes a show of it. He pulls Seunghyun’s pants down below his knees and moves the couch cushion from behind him. If they’re going to fuck in this position, Seunghyun has to lean back more. Then, he straddles him and while Seunghyun watches, he preps himself with a hand on the couch behind Seunghyun’s shoulder for stability. The routine is all so easy, like riding a bike.  
  
Actually prepping himself is less easy, or less comfortable anyway. It’s been a while and the position is a little awkward so it’s uncomfortable at first. Seunghyun buries his face in his t-shirt though and inhales deeply, looking content and calm. Jiyong feels his warm breath through the fabric. It is a sweet and intimate gesture.  
  
‘You smell good,’ Seunghyun whispers.  
  
Jiyong smiles and leans his head down so he can kiss Seunghyun’s hair.  
  
Then, he’s as ready as he needs to be. He gets Seunghyun back to full hardness again too because he wants to. Because after a few weeks of failed intimacy beyond hugs designed for comfort and sympathy, he wants to touch him as much as possible. It’s nice to have the weight of him in his hand, to feel him twitch and swell. He wonders when his vulgarity will end because even now, he still thinks Seunghyun has a world class cock. Foreplay has never been a chore. He likes it. As soon as he gets Seunghyun hard enough, Jiyong shuffles forward and reaches behind him to guide Seunghyun in.  
  
There’s a moment when the first push begins to stretch Jiyong open that he realizes how much he _needs_ this. God, if something happened and they could never have sex again, they would survive. He could live without it if he had to, but under normal conditions, he needs this. Sex isn’t just about the physical, it helps reorient them. It always has. After a stressful few weeks of disconnection, this can bring them back together.  
  
It’s painful at first. He keeps whispering for Seunghyun to wait, that he just needs a few more seconds. And then a few more. And then a few more. They know each other’s bodies though and Seunghyun does everything right. He strokes his cock to relax him and he’s patient. His initial thrusts and movements are small and controlled so Jiyong can adjust.   
  
Then, he is fully seated and he lets his weight rest on Seunghyun and it’s still a little uncomfortable but mostly not. Mostly, it’s just warm and full and familiar and Seunghyun releases this small laugh at the same time he does. An instinctive release of--- sheer _relief_.  
  
With one hand on Seunghyun’s thigh behind him and the other on Seunghyun’s chest, Jiyong finds a comfortable way to move and the remaining discomfort fades. It feels _good_ and Seunghyun’s expression is a wonder. He looks relaxed and happy and present. Seunghyun holds his thighs and makes appreciative sounds, his gaze focussed on their laps rocking together.  
  
Jiyong smiles, remembering the awkwardness of their first few sexual encounters. It took time to shed all of the embarrassment about their bodies and where to look and how to feel about their most intimate places being on full display. Now, Seunghyun especially loves to _look._ He likes the details. Two years ago, for one week only, Jiyong let him film them having sex. No faces allowed, but close-ups were okay. Seunghyun wanted to film himself sliding into him, to get right up close so he could see it and hear it all in gruesome detail. Jiyong didn’t really get it and outright refused to watch the footage but he let Seunghyun re-watch it for a week before making him delete it. With so many tattoos, things like that were too much of a risk. Even without faces involved, there is no part of his body that isn’t identifiable.  
  
Jiyong rocks his hips now, trying to find that perfect angle, raising up a little and then not, back and forth and then more circular. Riding Seunghyun like this, while he’s half seated makes it more difficult than lying down but this is how he wants it. He wants control. He wants to see Seunghyun’s face. He wants the freedom for them to touch each other more.  
  
While keeping his balance, he manages to undo the buttons of Seunghyun’s shirt to expose his chest. He pinches one of Seunghyun’s nipples who flinches in response.  
  
‘Why does it feel like my birthday?’ Seunghyun asks, a little breathless.  
  
‘Every day with me should feel like your birthday.’  
  
Seunghyun laughs but it turns into a choked groan when Jiyong tries something new, rolls his hips in a different way that requires a little more skill and lets Seunghyun in a little deeper. It has the desired effect. This different angle is harder on his thighs but he keeps it up and enjoys the effect it has.  
  
‘Oh, you--- oh that’s so _good,’ _Seunghyun whispers.  
  
‘Thank-you,’ Jiyong answers. ‘I really paid attention when we were trainees. Those hula hoop exercises in the gym really paid off.’  
  
Seunghyun laughs again and shakes his head.  
  
‘My education happened the other way around. I got good at sex and now I’m _great_ with a hula hoop’.  
  
Jiyong stops moving for a moment so he can lean in and kiss him briefly.  
  
‘I can’t disagree,’ he smiles.  
  
Seunghyun stops him and _holds_ him in an elevated position, and he takes over for a minute, fucking up into him with real passion and force. It feels fucking fantastic. Jiyong can only hold onto his shoulders, his fingers digging painfully into Seunghyun’s collarbone.  
  
He wants to say something, tell Seunghyun how glad he is that they can be together again, but he doesn’t want to push them out of this moment. Jiyong just looks into Seunghyun’s face lovingly with awe and appreciation. He slides a hand between them so he can touch himself and he lets Seunghyun do the work while he jerks himself off.  
  
Seunghyun starts whispering little praising commentaries between them, watching him touch himself with appreciation. All this has an embarrassing effect on Jiyong because pleasure pools in his stomach and deep inside him, and he knows he’s already on his way. A few sexy whispers and a lecherous gaze make all the difference. He’s not the only one though.  
  
Jiyong sees the muscles in Seunghyun’s stomach tighten, his abs more defined suddenly. He is just as close, so Jiyong focuses on how good Seunghyun looks and _feels_ inside him and it takes surprisingly little time. When he is on the edge, he leans down and kisses Seunghyun and is still kissing him when he cums. His whole body tightens and his orgasm ripples out in a little wave down his arms and legs. He cums partially on Seunghyun’s stomach, which he seems to enjoy. It is brief but it feels fantastic and it’s cathartic.  
  
Breathing heavily, he changes his position a little so Seunghyun can do what he needs to do. So close himself, Seunghyun fucks up into him with a tight grip around his waist and he speeds up, losing all control.  
  
‘I’m going to cum. Do you want me to pull out?’ Seunghyun hastily whispers.  
  
‘No, cum inside me’.  
  
Like that, Seunghyun has permission and in moments, he follows him. He cums. Jiyong feels his cock pulse inside him, that final swell and extra hardness. Jiyong tightens around him.  
  
Seunghyun groans and digs his fingers hard into his waist while he rides it out. He looks amazing. He always does. So masculine when he cums. There’s a little moment afterwards when his thighs shake, just for a second.  
  
Jiyong rolls his hips a few times to tease the last of it out of him, then he sighs and lets Seunghyun’s cock slip out. Seunghyun pulls him forward and wraps his arms around him.  
  
‘So good,’ he sighs. He holds his wrist out behind Jiyong’s back so he can see the time on his watch. ‘Wow! We lasted 8 minutes!’  
  
Jiyong laughs into Seunghyun’s shoulder, then pushes himself back so he can slap Seunghyun’s chest in solidarity.  
  
‘Not bad for someone who hasn’t cum in a month. What stamina!’  
  
‘I pride myself on it. What’s _your_ excuse?’  


* * *

It seems par for the course in their often crazy life that at 4am the next morning, Jiyong jolts upright in bed, slapping Seunghyun awake by accident when he throws an arm out in surprise.  
  
The phone is ringing.  
  
_His_ phone.  
  
Half asleep and with a pounding heart, he picks it up without looking.  
  
‘Hello?’  
  
The answer comes in a voice so tense and high strung it takes almost twenty seconds for Jiyong to comprehend it and realize who it is. It’s Youngbae.  
  
_‘She’s in labour!’_  
  
‘What? _Oh—_’ Jiyong wakes himself up and punches Seunghyun’s thigh to make sure he wakes up too. ‘Oh my God. Okay. Wow. Where are you? Which hospital?’  
  
‘CHA.’  
  
‘Okay. We’ll come up. Seunghyun and I are in Inje. We---- we came for the weekend with friends. He’s right next to me. But we’ll come back to Seoul, okay?’  
  
‘Thanks. I mean you know—in the morning,’ Youngbae stresses, completely frazzled. ‘Hyorin might divorce me if I let you in before her parents get here.’  
  
‘Yeah, sure. Of course. We’ll--- we’ll see you in a few hours, okay?’  
  
‘Okay’.  
  
Jiyong bites his lip and is shocked to find himself on the verge of tears. His voice comes out in pieces, unexpectedly emotional.  
  
‘Youngbae? ---- congratulations. I love you, yeah?’  
  
_‘I love you too.’_  
  
When Jiyong hangs up, he turns to a confused Seunghyun and a little sob comes out of him that turns into a laugh. He has no idea what to feel. He flops back down on the mattress and throws an arm around Seunghyun’s middle, holding him a little too tightly.  
  
‘Hyorin’s in labour. Youngbae wants us to drive up in the morning.’  
  
‘Oh. _Wow’.  
_  
‘Yeah’.


	2. Chapter 2

She’s beautiful. Swaddled in a white baby blanket with a matching beanie, Youngbae’s daughter has a pink, scrunched up face like she is still adjusting to life. Her eyes are closed but she isn’t asleep. Her expression periodically changes, her eyelids wrinkle and her mouth opens. Maybe she is trying to go back, trying to remember what it was like before all the noise and blinding light.  
  
Jiyong reaches down and touches her cheek with the back of his forefinger. Her skin is warm and soft and she reacts to his touch. All babies are cute in their own way but Youngbae’s daughter is _cute_. Somehow his two diminutive friends have given birth to a chubby angel. Her small pink lips are puckered by her fat cheeks. She has the sort of face foreigners want to see on Instagram.  
  
His heart pounds. Not for the reasons he feared, because of jealousy and unfulfilled longing. He doesn’t want to steal this baby and start a new life overseas. He isn’t resentful or jealous that Youngbae has something so precious and unique. He doesn’t feel any of those things. His heart aches because he is overwhelmed and happy for his oldest and best friend. When he first met Youngbae, they were closer in age to this beautiful baby than to the age they are now. It makes his head spin to think how far they have come. In a few more years, this fragile child will be walking and talking with dreams of her own. A few years after that, she will have her own best friend and he and Youngbae will be old men.  
  
‘Wow,’ Seunghyun whispers, stopping beside him.  
  
Seunghyun leans over the hospital cot and imitates Jiyong’s awed touch, letting a gentle fingertip brush the baby’s cheek. His eyes are wide and sincere and a soft look transforms his face. Seunghyun is so unpredictable and intense but he has an affinity with children that neither of them realised until Yeonjun was born. He spent the first ten years they knew each other avoiding kids like the plague and then, as though a switch was flipped, he did a 180. Just like in their own relationship, with kids he is dependable and loving.  
  
Jiyong lets his pinky finger touch Seunghyun’s on the side of the cot and Seunghyun responds by crossing them, locking them together like two kids making a promise on the playground. Being here for Youngbae is the next best thing to standing over a cot of their own. Without saying a word to him, Jiyong knows Seunghyun feels the same way. That there isn’t any bitterness or jealousy, just unbridled love and awe. They would do anything for this kid. For the rest of this girl’s life, they will be on call.  
  
‘You haven’t decided on a name?’ Seunghyun asks, looking back at Hyorin.  
  
‘Not yet. Maybe we’ll call her Seunghyun’.  
  
‘Good,’ he answers, deadpan. ‘Very pretty.’  
  
Jiyong scoffs. Seunghyun doesn’t talk to Hyorin that often and either does he, but her dry sense of humour is on the same level as Seunghyun’s. Hyorin is a low octane version of him. Every conversation they have is like stepping into a parallel universe. Almost normal but—not quite.  
  
Jiyong reluctantly draws his eyes away from the baby and takes proper stock of Hyorin. She is propped up by a few pillows and her hair is done. She looks remarkably well for someone who just pushed a baby out. She is pale though and looks understandably tired. He feels guilty for being here and keeping her awake. They have invaded her privacy. Youngbae wanted them to be here though. He asked them to come. He wanted them to see the baby in its first hours on Earth. Probably, he just wanted support. So he could talk and let out his emotions. So he could share his excitement and this _big, huge moment_. The biggest in his life.  
  
Jiyong smiles, remembering. Before he and Seunghyun were guided apologetically into Hyorin’s room, he hugged Youngbae in the carpark for almost two minutes. Youngbae held onto him like he was a pillow on a lonely night. He spoke incessantly the entire way upstairs, darting from one thought to another, recounting moments from the birth and then jumping ahead to what he’ll have to do in six months-time and then backwards, talking about what he has to do next week, tomorrow, later today. His mind was in pieces but he was deliriously happy. He is in the hallway now, talking to a nurse.  
  
Jiyong looks at the baby again and selfishly wishes she wasn’t swaddled to high heaven. He wants to touch her little fingers and the palm of her tiny hand.  
  
‘She’s really beautiful,’ Jiyong tells Hyorin. ‘Perfect.’  
  
‘I know.’  
  
‘Of course,’ Youngbae says, entering the room. He is whispering but it carries like he is shouting from the rooftops. ‘Beautiful wife, beautiful baby!’ he smiles. ‘Not to mention my own good looks’.  
  
‘Yeah,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘Don’t mention them.’  
  
Youngbae feigns being aggrieved and Seunghyun moves past Jiyong to pull Youngbae into what looks like a painful bear hug. It’s so sudden and uncharacteristic. Seunghyun is moved and Youngbae accepts it for what it is. He hugs him back and slaps his back, so hard that Jiyong winces sympathetically.   
  
When the two of them separate, Seunghyun’s eyes are wet and he rests his hands on his hips for a moment before nodding at Hyorin and excusing himself because he’s about to burst into tears. When he’s gone Hyorin laughs quietly, endeared by it.  
  
‘He loves us,’ Youngbae says sentimentally.  
  
Jiyong smiles, his own throat threatening to close before a deluge of tears.  
  
‘He does.’  
  
After a few more sincere congratulations to Hyorin and one last delicate touch of the baby’s cheek, he and Youngbae move out into the hallway, heading slowly towards the sitting room at the end. Jiyong can see Seunghyun’s foot poking out from behind a corner.  
  
He tries to think of the right words to say. There are so many things running through his head, nothing makes it out. He should thank Youngbae for wanting him here. He should congratulate him another ten times. He should tell him that even if things change the way they inevitably changed when he moved to Inje, and will change again with their attentions further divided by kids, they will _always_ be friends. He should tell him a lot of things, but Youngbae sighs in a contented way and pats the small of his back and Jiyong realises he doesn’t have to say anything.  
  
Instead, he stops in the hallway and pulls Youngbae into another hug. He folds his arms around him and buries his face in his shoulder, patting him on the back.  
  
‘I love you. I’m so happy for you.’  
  
When they separate, Youngbae’s smile is so wide and free, Jiyong mirrors it. Youngbae keeps his hand on the small of his back, a point of connection.  
  
‘Before you go, I want to ask you something,’ he says.  
  
‘What is it?’  
  
‘I want you to be her godfather. Our nameless daughter,’ Youngbae clarifies.  
  
Jiyong takes an accidental step back and his shoulder hits the wall. It’s not like this was an impossibility, but they never really talked about it. In a way, it was implicit already that he would watch out for this girl until the very end. It didn’t need saying.  
  
‘Me? Not your brother? Or Hyorin’s brother?’  
  
Youngbae shrugs candidly.  
  
‘Look, if anything happened to the two of us, obviously our families would take in our kids, but if they ever _can’t_, I want you to look out for my daughter and all my future kids too. Who do I trust more than you?’ Youngbae asks. ‘Besides, giving you a title forces us to stay family for the rest of our lives, no matter how far away you move. You’re tethered to us now. If you accept, I’ve got a chain around your ankle until one of us dies.’  
  
Jiyong laughs as a tear rolls down his cheek.  
  
‘You talked to Hyorin about this?’  
  
‘Of course I did!’  
  
Another tear rolls down Jiyong’s cheek and he’s embarrassed that of all the moments he could have cried in the last forty minutes, he’s doing it _now_. But it doesn’t matter, does it? He nods, wiping his wet face.  
  
‘Yes, I would _love_ to be her godfather. _Thank-you.’  
_  
Youngbae smiles and they hug again. Jiyong whispers his thanks a dozen more times because what honour is greater than being trusted with someone else’s children?  
  
He pulls back and wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater as Seunghyun approaches with a raised brow.  
  
‘Everything okay?’  
  
‘Yeah’.  
  
‘I need to get a coffee before we leave,’ Seunghyun says. ‘Do either of you want one?’  
  
Youngbae says yes so Seunghyun disappears down the hallway in search of some hospital caffeine. Youngbae watches him retreat until he finally disappears down a corridor. He turns to Jiyong now, pensive.  
  
‘Don’t take what I’m about to say the wrong way, or let it take away from the fact I asked you first and you’re always my number one,’ Youngbae prefaces his speech. ‘But I was going to ask Seunghyun too.’  
  
‘To be _godfather?_’ Jiyong presses, shocked.  
  
‘Yeah. What do you think about that?’  
  
For a moment, he is so stunned he says nothing at all. Youngbae misinterprets that and fills the silence with an explanation.  
  
‘I know it’s standard to have _one_, but what if we’re all on a family vacation one day and you die in the freak accident with us, along with the rest of my blood family? Who’ll take care of my daughter then?’ he asks, half joking, half serious. ‘We’ve all seen him with Yeonjun,’ Youngbae says, ‘not to mention all the other kids he comes into contact with. I just feel like he’d take care of my daughter, if he had to. I _know_ he would. Is that--’  
  
Jiyong laughs and drops his head back until he’s looking at the ceiling trying to blink back tears. Youngbae can’t understand what it means for him to suggest Seunghyun, but it matters. They will be the official Godparents of this child together? It means so much to him.  
  
‘I think that’s a great idea,’ Jiyong answers, voice broken. ‘He would love that. And you’re right, he _would_ look after your family.’  
  
‘He’s bought so many toys already,’ Youngbae sighs quietly. ‘I’ve been giving some of them to charity. I don’t have the heart to ask him to stop. He seems to like giving them. I could open my own toy store.’  
  
Jiyong laughs.  
  
‘I know. The cellar is full of toys. He can’t even reach the wine now.’  
  
‘He said that?’  
  
Jiyong checks himself.  
  
‘I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.’  
  
Youngbae grimaces, but he’s touched.  
  
When Seunghyun returns with coffee, Youngbae gratefully accepts his and leads Seunghyun down the hallway to the sitting area so they can talk privately for a moment. Jiyong doesn’t want to intrude by watching, but he can’t look away. He can’t make out the words, but he sees Seunghyun’s reaction to being asked. There is no hug because Seunghyun bursts into tears. He puts his coffee on the seat behind him and covers his face with his hands. His shoulders shake as he cries. Youngbae pats his back and Jiyong makes eye contact with him. They both share a sympathetic smile over Seunghyun’s shoulder.   
  
It is broken prematurely by an influx of noise as the elevator opens. Hyorin’s parents have returned with other family members, each carrying an offering of some sort. Flowers, balloons, baskets of unknown content. Seunghyun finally gets his brief hug from Youngbae then they turn to greet the family. Moments later, Youngbae’s mother emerges from the same elevator and Jiyong watches their two families interact with love and community. It’s nice. But it also means he and Seunghyun need to leave.  
  
He pulls Seunghyun to the elevator and hits the button. He waves Youngbae over and they share a fleeting hug goodbye.  
  
‘I’m going to stay in Seoul for a while. A week or two. I’ll be around,’ Jiyong tells him. ‘if you need _anything_, just call me.’  
  
In the car downstairs, before they head back to Seunghyun’s apartment, they sit for a while in silence. Slumped in their seats, they watch people in the distance enter and exit the main hospital doors. He feels overwhelmed but he isn’t thinking about anything in particular. The enormity of Youngbae having a little girl and seeing her with his own two eyes has blown everything else out of his head.  
  
‘We’re godparents,’ Seunghyun says quietly. ‘Both of us, together. Just you and me. Isn’t that funny.’  
  
‘What do you mean?’ Jiyong asks.  
  
‘Maybe he knows something.’  
  
‘About us?’  
  
Seunghyun shrugs.  
  
‘He doesn’t know,’ Jiyong says. ‘He doesn’t know anything.’  
  
‘Okay.’  
  
‘He thinks you’d be a good father. He thinks you’d look after his family because you’re good with kids, and I’ve been his best friend since we were twelve. It’s nothing more than that.’  
  
Seunghyun pouts, sort of chewing on his lip like he’s deep in thought.  
  
‘What?’ Jiyong presses.  
  
Seunghyun smiles faintly and shrugs again.  
  
‘I think he knows something. It’s not the first time I thought so.’  
  
For a moment, Jiyong’s heart drops. He feels a lurch inside him like it’s fallen all the way to his feet. He shakes it off and starts the car. In the midst of his joy and awe at Youngbae’s child, the thought of him knowing anything about their relationship terrifies him and he doesn’t know why.  
  
‘He doesn’t know.’  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
For the next few days, they don’t really do anything. They sit around Seunghyun’s empty house, living off the bed, or they eat out in discrete dives late at night. They hover for Youngbae’s sake and because going home feels like letting go of the moment. For a while longer, they want to enjoy the reality of Youngbae having a little girl before they return to their empty house.  
  
Youngbae doesn’t call for three days but on the fourth day they have a chat over the speaker and he sounds exhausted and hyperactive at once. He tells them they have named his daughter Iseul. _Dew_. When they first took her home, she cried for hours until the sun came up. Youngbae stood in the doorway to the yard trying to rock her to sleep and in his own sleep deprived state, he found himself staring at the dew on the grass and in the garden. When he snapped out of it, Iseul was quiet for the first time.  
  
Jiyong and Seunghyun congratulate him for no longer having a nameless baby. They promise not to go back to Inje until they see her again.  
  
In the meantime, they just mill about. Seunghyun meets with a few people related to his upcoming work with the National Museum. Jiyong takes his lead and spends a few hours here and there with old friends.  
  
One night, he has a few drinks with Kush. He hasn’t seen him in a few months. They talk on the phone but not that often. So, they catch up on each other’s lives. Jiyong tries to explain Inje in a way that makes sense despite leaving a Seunghyun sized hole in his story. Kush talks about his new girlfriend and a collaboration he has in the works with an up and coming label. They are three bottles of soju in when Kush throws both hands out as if to steady himself.  
  
‘Wait. Wait _wait._ I have something for you!’  
  
Jiyong takes another swig and waits expectantly.  
  
Kush pulls his phone out and starts scrolling before he stills silently, fumbling with the keypad for what feels like five minutes. He is drunk. Watching him try to send a text is like watching an animal in a zoo. Jiyong eats the last of the meat on the grill. When Kush is finally done, Jiyong has forgotten his earlier claim entirely.  
  
‘Okay,’ Kush says with a grin. ‘Just wait. Just wait a minute.’  
  
‘I _am_ waiting,’ Jiyong answers, taking another drink.  
  
While they wait for whatever Kush is expecting, they talk about the future. Kush asks if he’s working on music and what his plans are and Jiyong sighs and shrugs. He doesn’t have any answers. The desire to work on music is growing in the back of his brain and he has written bits and pieces but the logistics still feel overbearing. As soon as he releases anything, the publics eyes will be on him again. Losing the sense of privacy he’s clung to the past year will be difficult. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for that.  
  
‘Maybe you should move home,’ Kush suggests, ordering another bottle of soju. ‘For inspiration. What—what inspiration is out there? I went rafting in Inje once. There was fucking nothing.’  
  
‘It’s not that bad.’  
  
‘You don’t miss it here? Look around,’ Kush says, gesturing with the glass in his hand. Liquid rises to the rim. ‘This place is filthy and I can barely hear you because of traffic that’s 6 blocks away. Seoul is _alive._’  
  
‘I _like_ Inje. It’s peaceful and private.’  
  
‘But you haven’t written anything. You’re a famous musician and you haven’t written a song since you left here. You’re literally unemployed.’  
  
‘I don’t _need_ to work.’  
  
Kush laughs so loud he wobbles on his stool. He shakes his head, tears almost forming in his eyes.  
  
‘The Kwon Jiyong I know is a workaholic. You don’t know how to live without working.’  
  
Kush’s phone vibrates across the table and he picks it up, squinting at the screen. After a moment, his mouth forms a tight ‘o’. Jiyong flinches at the sudden finger Kush shoots across the table precariously close to his face.   
  
‘What if I presented an opportunity,’ he asks drunkenly. ‘Some motivation for you?’  
  
‘Like what?’ Jiyong asks, brushing his hand aside.  
  
‘There’s an event tomorrow. Like a private one? It’s a little showcase cum meet & greet. I don’t know exactly but it’s people meeting people. This label I’m working with is trying to get something going with a few American artists but tomorrow RZA is supposed to be there, and DJ Premier I think. A few other people. I know you were big into those guys back when you were a kid.’  
  
Jiyong’s jaw drops and the glass halfway to his mouth quickly hits the table again.  
  
‘RZA and half of Gang Starr will be here in Korea?’ He asks. ‘Where? Will you be there?’  
  
‘I can bring you.’  
  
_‘What?’_  
  
The reply tears out of him. An invitation like that is a once in a lifetime opportunity, something so impossible to imagine, Jiyong never even _dreamed_ it.  
  
He immediately thinks about Seunghyun. He was just as obsessed with Wu-Tang Clan. They memorised the lyrics to twenty songs together. They were part of the reason they became friends in the first place. It was at Seunghyun’s house that Jiyong first heard C.R.E.A.M. And DJ Premier? He’s behind every American song they listened to from the 90’s. He’s practically royalty. Imagine seeing him in the flesh. Talking to him? That’s a fucking dream.  
  
It’s strange how instantaneous it is. For the first time in a while, he feels a flare of passion for music. Just thinking about the people who inspired him when he was younger, who pushed him down this irrevocable path. It lights a fire inside him. It makes him think about all the hardships he overcame to live his own dreams. All the physical and mental torture, and the years of having no stability or guarantees. He would often put on those tapes for comfort.  
  
‘So? You want to meet RZA?’ Kush grins.  
  
It’s embarrassing but the second Jiyong really comprehends what Kush is saying, his eyes cloud with tears. Suddenly, he is ten years old again, sitting in his bedroom rewinding a beat-up cassette tape over and over so he can memorise lyrics he wouldn’t dream of repeating now as an adult. Back then? Without understanding the words, the flow and the power and the feeling of truth really spoke to him. It didn’t matter that half the songs could never be relatable lyrically because they represented something. Speaking truth to power. Living honestly. Living for yourself. Things he understood even as a child, on some level anyway.  
  
These two men were a very real part of how music became his life as a kid. Within a few years he had met most of his Korean idols and heroes, even performed on stage with some of them. But those early American icons? He never thought it was possible. Just to say thank-you? Just once. What an opportunity.  
  
‘Shut up,’ Jiyong whispers in disbelief.  
  
‘You want to come? Gotta tell me now so I can---’ Kush hiccups, ‘confirm with all the other guys.’  
  
‘Fuck yes,’ Jiyong exclaims. ‘Yes! Fucking _yes!’  
  
_He takes another swig of Soju, overwhelmed, and Kush laughs at the faint gloss in his eyes.  
  
‘I knew it. You’re _starved!_ Come back to Seoul,’ Kush entreats him drunkenly. ‘There’s so much we could do together.’  
  
Anxious already, Jiyong spends twenty minutes talking about his childhood. He delivers sermons on his favourite records and where he was when he first heard them. He remembers a few lines from a lyrical re-write he did of one song when he was 12 and Kush laughs so hard he snorts. For the first time in years, Jiyong drinks so much that he is surprised to wake up in Seunghyun’s bed the next morning. He has no recollection of how he got home or when, but when he stumbles into the bathroom and trips over the step into the shower, he sees the letters ‘RZA’ printed on his arm in black marker and he remembers the basics.

* * *  
  


When he gets out of the shower, he tries to find Seunghyun to tell him the news because he has to tell _somebody_, but Seunghyun is gone. There is a note on the kitchen counter saying he’s gone to the National Museum for a meeting.  
  
Jiyong calls Kush to confirm the details because his hangover is crushing his skull. They are supposed to meet in the city at four for an informal greeting in the private club opposite Kush’s new studio. They’ll have a few drinks then head over. This label Kush is working with will pitch some type of collaboration with these American giants. Maybe, if enough drinks are had, a few mics will be turned on and a few buttons pressed. Maybe they’ll fool around in the studio.  
  
Formally, Jiyong has nothing to do. He’s just there to say hi and watch and give credibility, Kush tells him.  
  
‘It makes their jumpstart label look bigger if you’re sitting there. It's why they agreed to let you come. If you want to sign a contract though, they wouldn’t be opposed.’  
  
‘I’ll pretend to think about it.’  
  
For the rest of the day, Jiyong tries to quell his nervousness. He lays on Seunghyun’s hardwood floor and closes his eyes. He plays music on his phone and tries to step back into his childhood shoes. He sinks back into the hopes and dreams and burgeoning creativity of a time when he listened to these records on repeat. His mother wanted him to be an entertainer and he did his best to please her, but it wasn’t until he heard _this_ music that he felt a passion which belonged entirely to himself, something that wasn’t influenced by his mother’s dreams and ambitions for him. So many thoughts and feelings and fears come back to him. It’s like time has folded in on itself and traveling from that 12 year old boy to the man he is now takes a single step.  
  
What can he really say to someone who changed the course of his life? It’s like meeting someone who dragged you from a burning building. How can he say thank-you?  
  
While laying on the ground, he tests out a few sentences in English and finds himself stalling between words. It’s been a long time since he’s had to speak English, it doesn’t come as easily as it once did and it was never _easy_. Maybe he should be silent and watch them like a fan, tracing their every movement and word. Every mannerism and inflection.  
  
When his back starts to ache, he tries calling Seunghyun again but there’s no answer. It’s 2pm now.  
  
He looks for something to wear and panics at the state of his suitcase. Can he wear casual clothes from Inje to meet childhood heroes? What do these clothes say about him? With an hour and a half to spare, Jiyong jumps in the car and high tails it to his sister’s store to pillage some clothes from the back room. He settles on a few mismatched layers that come together nicely.  
  
When he gets back in the car, he is properly equipped. He looks like a star but _casual_. Like he threw an outfit on and didn’t curate it specifically for one night. He wants to look casual but still professional. Someone important but not arrogant. He wants to look like somebody but be approachable at the same time. He picks up his phone to try Seunghyun again but hesitates. Should he tell him at all? RZA was someone they both respected and looked up to. Won’t he be upset at missing this once in a lifetime opportunity?  
  
Jiyong is about to put the phone back on the seat when it rings. It’s Seunghyun. He wonders if this is a sign from God. He answers it. His hands tingle in anticipation at being able to say the words out loud. _I’m about to meet---  
_  
Seunghyun starts speaking before Jiyong has even answered the phone. He sounds panicked.  
  
‘Jiyong, where are you? Are you in the city?’  
  
‘Yeah, I’m in the city. Why?’  
  
‘My father is in the hospital—’  
  
_‘Oh god.’_  
  
‘Oh. No,’ Seunghyun corrects quickly. ‘He’s _fine._ It was a scheduled appointment but my mother has gone with him and she was supposed to pick Yeonjun up today from football practice. She forgot. She called me an hour ago and asked me if I could do it, but this meeting is running late and if I walk out right now someone needs to be dying, you know? I have to _be_ here. This is important.’  
  
Jiyong wraps his head around Seunghyun’s avalanche of words.  
  
‘Where is your sister? Her husband?’  
  
‘Christ, I don’t know. Every third week, Yeonjun stays with my parents for a night while the other two do some married thing, I really don’t know. Are you free? I need you to pick him up.’  
  
‘Pick Yeonjun up? When? Right now?’  
  
‘In about fifteen minutes. At that elementary school in Gangnam. The new one in the ads, you know?’  
  
‘Yeah, I know.’  
  
There’s a moment of silence between them and Jiyong’s mind is blank. He isn’t processing what Seunghyun is asking him or how this could threaten his afternoon. His one chance at meeting these icons, these people at the root of his musical life.  
  
‘Can you do it?’ Seunghyun asks desperately. ‘Can you go pick him up? I can’t get anyone else. It has to be someone he knows. He won’t get in the car with someone he doesn’t recognise.’  
  
Jiyong stutters, trying to think of an alternative but Seunghyun unleashes a desperate _please_ and Jiyong’s face crumples in the car. What is he supposed to do? Yeonjun is Seunghyun’s family.  
  
‘What do I do with him? Take him home?’  
  
‘To my parent’s house.’  
  
Jiyong groans but Seunghyun assures him they’ll be at the hospital for hours.  
  
‘I should be there in an hour. Less than that, okay? I promise I’ll be there before they come back,’ Seunghyun says. ‘Yeonjun has a key.’  
  
‘Fine’.  
  
‘_Thank-you’._  
  
Jiyong hangs up without saying goodbye, not because he’s angry but because part of his brain simply shorts out. Already, he is bargaining with God and reassuring himself. _If Seunghyun is on time, I can pick the kid up and drop him off and make it to the club only fifteen minutes late. Everything is okay. Everything is on schedule.  
_  
  
* * *  
  
  
Jiyong calls Kush while he waits in the school carpark, nervously idling. He’s in the most conspicuous fucking car he could possibly be in. His main car is in the garage at Inje. Because he and Seunghyun travelled together to Seoul, he had to get one of his other cars out of storage. He’s sitting in an elementary school carpark in a $600,000 rolls royce.  
  
When Kush answers, Jiyong apologises emphatically for running late and Kush tells him to relax. He says everyone is running late. It’s all been pushed back by thirty minutes. Jiyong praises God and his heart feels instantly lighter. He has time.  
  
He puts his sunglasses on and pulls his beanie down over his head as people start to slow when passing his car. They are trying to peer through the tinted windows. It makes him anxious. It brings back memories of feeling like an animal in a zoo.  
  
Mercifully, he sees Yeonjun exit the school gate soon after, his eyes on the ground, toes dragging along the concrete. Jiyong leans over and opens the passenger side door.  
  
_‘Yeonjun!’_  
  
He tries to mask his voice but he’s too successful. Yeonjun’s head shoots up in absolute confusion. He looks concerned, like he’s about to be abducted. Jiyong takes his sunglasses off and waves a hand to get his attention. He calls out again in his regular voice and Yeonjun sees him this time. He approaches the car with a confused expression.  
  
‘Where’s my uncle? The coach said he was picking me up.’  
  
‘Seunghyun-hyung is running a bit late. He asked me to pick you up but he’ll meet us soon. Is that okay? He asked me to drive you home.’  
  
Yeonjun looks dejected and shrugs, but he gets in the car regardless.  
  
Caught in traffic the second they hit the main road, Jiyong tries to make conversation. He has met Yeonjun enough times over the years but they’ve never been alone together for more than a minute. The baby of his own family, he has no idea how to talk to people this age. Small children are easy. Older teens are okay. But ten? How smart and wise are children at ten? What do you talk about? He has no recollection of his own brain at ten.  
  
‘How was football?’ Jiyong asks, feeling like a sham parent.  
  
Yeonjun doesn’t answer, Jiyong just hears the rustle of his jacket as he shrugs.  
  
‘Aren’t you training for a competition? That’s pretty cool.’  
  
_Silence._  
  
Jiyong chews his lip. It’s an awkward gesture. His interactions with Yeonjun are usually more verbal. He looks at him a few times but it’s hard to tell if he hates him, or if he’s sulking. Maybe he’s sick? He has a vague air of something being amiss. Jiyong throws a few more questions his way but Yeonjun answers none of them. Now and then he grunts in acknowledgement.  
  
Jiyong sighs and for a while they drive in silence. Deep down, he wonders if all his desires for children are misplaced. Is this the kind of parent he would be? When Yeonjun finally does speak, he is uncharacteristically quiet and subdued. Usually loud and frankly forceful, his sedate attitude this afternoon is throwing Jiyong off.  
  
‘When is my uncle coming?’  
  
Stopped at a red light, Jiyong looks at him again and sees the telltale signs of a child about to burst into tears. It makes him panic. What happened? How does he fix it? How does he comfort someone else’s child? Seunghyun will meet them and find his nephew in a pool of tears.  
  
‘He’ll meet us at home. He’s just finishing up at work and then he’s coming straight back’.  
  
The light changes and Jiyong’s focus drifts for a moment trying to get out of the way of some asshole who almost clips them. When he spares a look at Yeonjun again, his face is wet.  
  
‘What’s the matter? Did something happen today?’  
  
‘I want to talk to my uncle.'  
  
Jiyong sighs and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. He checks the time and flinches at how much of his extra thirty minutes has already passed. If he turns right at the next intersection and drives for ten minutes, he’ll be there on time. He’ll be exactly where he needs to be, about to meet one of his childhood heroes over drinks.  
  
Just beyond the intersection is the turn-off for a café he used to go to with Seunghyun sometimes. Yang took him there once so his kid could eat five different cakes. It’s a little dessert shop with an indoor garden in the back. Yeonjun sniffs.  
  
‘You know,’ Jiyong says conversationally, ‘Your uncle talks to me whenever _he_ has a problem. Whenever he’s upset, he comes straight to me and we talk about it.’  
  
_Silence._  
  
‘So, if there’s something you want to talk about, maybe I can help you. Until your uncle finishes work anyway.’ When Yeonjun doesn’t answer, Jiyong tries something else. ‘What if we get something to eat before we head back home? Do you want some ice-cream? Or a cake? Your uncle likes to eat sweet things when he’s upset. What about you?’  
  
Jiyong only hears the shrug of a jacket.  
  
Five minutes later, he finds himself sitting in the corner of a café where Yeonjun eats cake while pouting simultaneously. He looks miserable. More miserable than a child eating cake has any right to. For a moment, Jiyong forgets about RZA and DJ Premier and his childhood dreams because there is an _actual_ child in front of him with tears in his eyes and he’s supposed to fix this. He’s an adult. He’s supposed to make sure this child is happy and healthy. In the wake of seeing Youngbae’s daughter, his empathy and paternal instincts are on high alert.  
  
It takes longer than he likes to coax anything out of him though. Yeonjun eats two and a half pieces of cake before he tells a stilted story about his troubles at school. At first, Jiyong thinks he’s being bullied but the more Yeonjun talks, the more Jiyong understands. Yeonjun isn’t being bullied. He _is_ the bully. He’s been picking on this poor girl for months because he likes her. Today, he asked her to sit with him at lunch and she brushed him off. He’s upset because he feels rejected.  
  
Yeonjun picks at what’s left of his cake and sulks. It’s hard to believe ten year olds even care about crushes. Did _he_ have a crush when he was ten?  
  
‘So you _like_ her?’  
  
Yeonjun shrugs.  
  
‘If you like her, why don’t you tell her? Pulling her hair and running off? Laughing at her? Hiding her things? That’s not nice. You don’t do those things to people you like.’  
  
‘They’re just games,’ he answers sulkily.  
  
‘Those aren’t games. You’re making her feel bad about herself.’  
  
_‘No!_ Everyone does it. It’s just for fun.’  
  
Jiyong frowns and Yeonjun gets frustrated. He slams his fork down on the table. Maybe it’s his age, but Jiyong recognises a lot of a younger Seunghyun in him. Someone with a lot of emotions struggling to keep them in check. Maybe Seunghyun sees himself in Yeonjun too. It took Seunghyun a lot of time to come to terms with himself and his turbulent emotions. Maybe he’s trying to be a mentor to his nephew in this.  
  
‘Have you talked to your uncle about this before? Is that why you wanted to see him today?’  
  
‘Yeah.’  
  
‘What did _he_ say? What was his advice?’  
  
‘I didn’t tell him about--- I just told him I liked her. He said I should spend time with her. Just be around all the time. In the same places. Sit near her. That stuff.’  
  
‘Why? If she sees you enough, she’ll like you back?’  
  
‘I guess.’  
  
Jiyong laughs quietly and shakes his head. That’s Seunghyun’s advice? Wear her down through a sense of familiarity? Is that what happened in their own relationship? They spent so much time together, they had no choice but to fall in love?  
  
‘Don’t _laugh_ at me,’ Yeonjun blusters.  
  
Jiyong rolls his eyes but tries to be kind and gentle when he answers.  
  
‘I’m not laughing at you. I just disagree with Seunghyun’s advice. If you really like this girl, you need to treat her better and then tell her how you feel. Next time you see her, you should apologise for pulling her hair and all the other stuff you’ve been doing.’  
  
‘Why? My friends will laugh at me’.  
  
‘Maybe. But she won’t.’  
  
‘She doesn’t like me.’  
  
‘Not right now. But apologising is a start. Say sorry and then be nice to her. Talk to her about things you like. Ask her what _she_ likes. Be nice to her friends. Tell a couple of jokes. Try to be her friend before anything else. You might be surprised.’  
  
Yeonjun frowns and plays with the handle of his fork. He slowly rotates it on the plate, sending crumbs over the edge onto the tablecloth.  
  
‘Is that what you did?’  
  
‘When I was your age? Absolutely. Just be friends with the girls you like and you’ll know if they want more. You’ve just got to be a good person. But,’ Jiyong stresses, ‘sometimes they’ll never like you back. You know that right? And when that happens, it’s not because of you. Sometimes you like people and they don’t like you back. Sometimes people like you and you don’t like _them_ back. That’s life. The point is to always treat people well. Because when you do that, even if one girl doesn’t like you, another one will. When you treat people nicely, that gets noticed. Girls notice, okay? So try that for a while instead of yanking on their hair.’  
  
It's hard talking earnestly to a kid, but their conversation lasts another fifteen minutes. Jiyong tries to hammer into this boy’s head that he has to be kinder. His friends sound like half the problem. His friends are pricks, so sometimes he acts like one too. It’s just that age of susceptibility.  
  
Jiyong tells stories about Seunghyun when he was younger and Yeonjun responds the most to those. The more Jiyong talks about Seunghyun, the more obvious it is that Yeonjun idolises him. He has Seunghyun up on a pedestal. So, Jiyong talks about some of Seunghyun’s failings when they were younger and how he sought to fix those things within himself. He relays a few of his own improved shortcomings too but it’s obvious Yeonjun relates the most to his uncle’s life.  
  
  
*  
  
  
On the way back to Seunghyun’s parents house, Jiyong makes a quick call on speaker to Kush.  
  
‘Hey, I have a kid in the car so don’t swear. I’m running late, okay? It was a family emergency but I’ll be there soon, I promise.’  
  
‘Alright but hurry okay? You’re making me look bad.’  
  
‘Are they there? Both of them?’  
  
‘Yeah.’  
  
Jiyong hears the faint sound of an American accent in the background and his fingers tighten on the steering wheel.  
  
‘I’ll be there soon.’  
  
When the call ends, Jiyong exhales deeply, a breeze of anxiety beginning to circle him. He is forty minutes late. If he drops Yeonjun off at the exact time Seunghyun arrives home, and heads straight to the studio, he will be seventy minutes late.  
  
‘You have somewhere important to be?’ Yeonjun asks.  
  
Jiyong tries to keep his budding anxiety out of his voice.  
  
‘Um, yes? No?' he stutters. 'I'm supposed to meet some people. These musicians I liked when I was a kid. This could be the only chance I ever get to see them in the flesh and say thank-you. They're American so it's hard to get in touch'. Talking about it helps relieve his tension. ‘When I was your age or a bit older, I heard one of their songs at your uncles house. After that, I knew I wanted to be a rapper. Hearing their music changed my life. I’d like to be able to say thank-you in person, you know?’  
  
Yeonjun makes a sound but doesn’t answer.  
  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
  
An hour later, Jiyong stares at his feet. He is slumped on the couch in Seunghyun’s parents house, his legs stretched out in front of him. He hasn’t looked at the clock in twenty minutes. What’s the point? He is irrevocably late. If he leaves right now, he’ll be over two hours late. Kush sent a few desperate texts and made a few calls in the interim but Jiyong has stopped answering. He can’t leave Yeonjun alone. What will Seunghyun say if he comes back and finds his nephew on his own? What if his parents return first? They’re already pretending his relationship with Seunghyun doesn’t exist. He doesn’t want to give them an actual reason. Leaving a ten year old alone so he can go and meet someone? He can’t do that.  
  
He has already asked Yeonjun for any possible escape route. Neighbours? Don’t know them. Friends? All studying. Parents? Doesn’t know where they are. Babysitters? Doesn’t know their phone number. There is nobody Jiyong can call.  
  
A small part of him clings to hope that when he finally gets out of here, he can make it to that studio and everyone will still be there. He will have missed most of it but he can still shake their hands. He can still see them in the flesh and say thank-you. That’s enough. Just five minutes. One minute. Thirty seconds. Anything. Any moment is enough. _Just give me _any _moment,_ he thinks.  
  
Yeonjun roams around the house for most of the hour but seems to catch on to Jiyong’s despair as the hour rounds out. To his credit, he shows a lot of maturity and empathy for someone who’s been yanking on a girl’s hair all year. Yeonjun asks about RZA and DJ Premier so Jiyong tells him unemotionally about his childhood. About he and Seunghyun memorizing the English lyrics without knowing what they meant. He talks a lot. Like working through grief.  
  
When the front door finally opens twenty minutes later, Yeonjun races to the door and into the arms of his grandmother.  
  
Seunghyun still isn’t here.  
  
When Seunghyun’s mother sees him in the lounge room, she freezes in surprise and Jiyong stands up. He awkwardly bows like they’re meeting for the first time across a cavernous distance. They meet in the kitchen and Jiyong quietly explains the situation.  
  
Yeonjun loudly proclaims he ate four pieces of cake and Jiyong flushes furiously, shaking his head in apology.  
  
_‘Oh no_, it was just--- more like two? And a bit.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother frowns and whispers something about dinner, probably talking to herself about how his appetite is ruined. Seunghyun’s father turns the corner at last and greets him. He looks strong and healthy for someone who’s had an ambiguous appointment at the hospital. His wife fills him in, then he holds his hand out and Jiyong takes it.  
  
Like that, Seunghyun’s father shakes his hand and disappears. No conversation, no commentary, no acknowledgement of him as his sons fiance. He treats him like an acquaintance. This is the first time he has been in their presence since Seunghyun came out and the lack of acknowledgement is beginning to dawn on him.  
  
Jiyong stares at Seunghyun’s mother and she stares back, like they are both waiting for the other to say something specific.  
  
‘Well, thank-you for picking him up,’ she says.  
  
‘You’re welcome’.  
  
Does she even know what Seunghyun is _doing_ in Seoul? He told her that Seunghyun was at a meeting running late but didn’t share the details. Does she know about Seunghyun’s future work with the National Museum? Or has this lack of communication between everyone left her in the dark?  
  
His phone vibrates in his pocket before he can agonize over whether to say something to her or not. He stares at the caller ID. It’s Kush. Knowing he can finally get on the road, he allows the shrinking flame of hope in his heart to stay lit. He apologizes to Seunghyun’s mother and takes the call in the next room.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Jiyong whispers on answering. ‘I can leave now. It was an emergency, I couldn’t--- I couldn’t come earlier---’  
  
‘They’re gone,’ Kush answers. ‘I’m sorry man. The meeting didn’t go as well as we hoped and they didn’t want to stick around. I tried stalling for you. I convinced them to stick around for an extra twenty after they first said they were leaving but--- they’re gone.’  
  
Jiyong barely hears the rest of Kush’s explanation. He covers his face with his hand and bites his lip to control his emotions. For the last two and a half hours he has tried not to think about the consequences of doing this favour for Seunghyun, but now it knocks him over. The cost of losing this opportunity is devastating.  
  
When he hangs up, he stands in place for a while trying to stop his tears from flowing. He wants to go home. He wants to get back in the car and drive straight back to Inje. He wants to crawl into his bed in the middle of nowhere and never hope or dream again. Instantly, he feels like a child. This was a _childhood dream_. Losing it hits harder than it should. He only got to nurse this reality for one day. From being told last night that this was possible--- to having it taken away again so quickly? It’s hard.  
  
After a while, he notices Yeonjun in the corner silently watching him with a morose expression.  
  
‘What's the matter?’  
  
Jiyong smiles and shrugs, a tear falling over his cheek. He quickly brushes it away and sniffs. He straightens up.  
  
‘Nothing. It’s okay’.  
  
‘Was that about the rappers?’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Jiyong answers. ‘They left. They couldn’t wait for me. It’s okay.’  
  
‘That was your only chance, wasnt it?’  
  
Jiyong’s lip quivers but he gets it under control and approaches him.  
  
‘Yes, it was. But--- it’s alright’.  
  
_‘Why?’_  
  
Yeonjun looks genuinely sad or perhaps it’s guilt. He knows Jiyong lost this chance because he had to watch him. He feels responsible. Jiyong can see it in his face. Knowing Seunghyun’s own propensity to blame himself for _everything_, he bends down so they are face to face.  
  
‘It’s okay because I was with you.’  
  
Yeonjun’s brow furrows so Jiyong explains.  
  
‘Seunghyun-hyung is like my family. So that makes you my family as well, doesn’t it? You always have to be there for your family. It’s the most important thing.’  
  
‘It’s my fault.’  
  
Jiyong smiles.  
  
‘No, it’s not. Don’t feel bad,’ he says. ‘Things just happen sometimes. Besides, it was nice to hang out with you. It's just like this girl at school, okay? Sometimes, things happen that upset you but if you look around, there’s always something positive there too. I didn’t make it to my meeting but I got to eat cake and tell you about the best music _ever_. That’s pretty good, right?’  
  
Jiyong’s little consolatory speech is so convincing, he almost convinces himself. His eyes are dry and his voice is calm and clear. He has a smile on his face and kind eyes. He is a benevolent uncle who brushes off disappointment with ease.  
  
When Jiyong stands, he sees Seunghyun’s mother watching him a few feet away and she frowns in a way that could either be sympathy or admonishment. It’s amazing how little she gives away.  
  
  
*  
  
  
Jiyong says goodbye to Yeonjun and Seunghyun’s mother walks him to the door. She gives another quiet thanks. On the front step, Jiyong turns and she asks him:  
  
‘How long were you waiting?’  
  
‘I don’t know. Two hours? A bit longer?’  
  
‘And you missed an engagement?’  
  
A little laugh creeps out of Jiyong’s throat and his eyes immediately begin to water. He nods and clears his throat.  
  
‘Yeah. Something like that’.  
  
For a moment, she looks sympathetic, like she might apologise or say something empathetic but she ultimately doesn’t. Jiyong fills the silence instead because he wants her to know he’s not a child, and that being upset about missing something important to him doesn’t mean he wouldn’t do it again.  
  
‘If you ever need someone to watch Yeonjun, or--- if there’s ever an emergency, I’m available. You know that, right? Seunghyun said he gave you my phone number. Do you still have it?’  
  
‘Yes’.  
  
Jiyong waits for her to acknowledge his words. For her to say thanks for the gesture or to show she understands. Whether she acknowledges him or not, he will be here for this family regardless. He will always answer the phone. The silence stretches long enough that Jiyong gives up and shrugs.  
  
‘Alright then’.  
  
He begins to leave but stops at the bottom step. He turns and asks her something.  
  
‘Do you know what we’re doing here in Seoul? What your son is doing here?’  
  
‘Youngbae’s daughter. He said he came to see the baby.’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Jiyong shrugs. ‘We came for that, but Seunghyun has work here too. He has something huge in the works. Has he told you?’  
  
She frowns, desperate to avoid a real conversation. Maybe she’s just embarrassed because they both know the answer to his question. He doesn’t make her say it aloud. She doesn’t know.  
  
‘Ask him,’ Jiyong emphasizes. ‘Talk to him. I would want to know if my child was doing what he’s about to do. It’s a really big deal.’  
  
So much more needs to be said but now isn’t the time. So, Jiyong gives a half-hearted wave and heads back to his car. Behind him, he hears a quiet but unemotional goodbye.  
  
‘Thank-you for picking Yeonjun up. Drive safely’.  
  
It surprises him so much that he pauses for a moment. The door clicks shut behind him and he sighs, walking the last few feet to the car.  
  
_‘Yeah. See you around.’_  
  
  


*  
  
  
Seunghyun finally comes home two hours after he does, and he apologizes profusely and presses Jiyong for information about his parents and how they treated him. He brushes it off. He says it was fine.  
  
Seunghyun tells him a few bits and pieces from the meeting. It all sounds very important and Seunghyun is excited about whatever happened, but Jiyong can’t focus or pay attention because he is tired and hurt and disappointed about his own day. He just wants to go to sleep, so he feigns a headache and gets into bed.  
  
When Seunghyun joins him, he touches his shoulder and asks if he’s alright and Jiyong shrugs it off in silence. If he opens his mouth, he will cry. Now, in the dark and quiet of their bed, he thinks about all the things he could have said and done if he had made it to that meeting.  
  
He can’t talk about it with Seunghyun because he’ll feel guilty for making him miss it. So, Jiyong swallows it down. He keeps it a secret. He shoves it into a box in the back of his brain and his disappointment becomes something much smaller. A pain only noticeable when it’s quiet.  
  
  
* * *

  
  
A few days later, he and Seunghyun visit Youngbae and Iseul and this time, he gets to touch her beautiful little fingers. They don’t stay long but it’s meaningful anyway. They get a tour of the new nursery and provide half an hour of stress relief for Youngbae’s frazzled brain. He has hardly slept. Hyorin’s mother is staying with them to help but newborns are hard work regardless.  
  
Then, like it’s nothing, he and Seunghyun have been in Seoul for almost three weeks. Seunghyun starts to talk about going back to Inje and Jiyong agrees but something makes him pause. Something in his gut tells him he can’t go home yet.  
  
  
  
* * *

  
Dami makes a surprise trip back to Seoul and Jiyong takes his chance to talk. They have lunch together in the back of her shop and he vents his disappointment about RZA and DJ Premier and how selfish he feels for still being disappointed days later. Like always, she coaxes the truth out of him without him being aware of it.  
  
‘It feels like the last two months have been about everyone else on Earth. Nothing has been about me. Missing that chance the other day?’ He shakes his head and frowns deeply. ‘That felt like my reward for getting through the last few months while staying an okay person, and it got taken away. And there’s nobody to blame,’ he vents. ‘I can’t blame Seunghyun for going through a hard time after coming out and things being hard at home. I can’t blame Yeonjun for needing a ride home or someone to talk to. I can’t blame my childhood heroes for not sticking to a schedule I was two hours late for. I have nobody to blame for any of this stupid shit I feel. I’m just so fucking----’ he shrugs haplessly. ‘I’m so angry and upset. _Still._ I don’t know why.’  
  
‘You just said it. You gave a lot of your time and emotional energy away for the last few weeks. Here, you finally had a chance to do something for yourself and it fell through. It’s understandable that you’re upset.’  
  
Jiyong shrugs because that feels like a disingenuous or shitty answer. Being there for Seunghyun isn’t something he needs a break from. It’s not something he begrudges.  
  
‘That’s not it.’  
  
‘So what was it about seeing these guys that was so important? When you thought it was going to happen, how did you feel?’  
  
Jiyong frowns again and fingers an unlit cigarette like a nervous tic. He’s been smoking less in Inje but over the past three days he has smoked an entire pack. Why? He has met so many of his childhood icons. Yes, these men being harder to pin down made this opportunity feel bigger because of the rarity. But what has ever fundamentally changed by meeting these people? They are beautiful moments, but that’s all. They’re just fleeting moments that quickly become fading memories.  
  
‘When Kush first told me, It sent me back into my old bedroom when I was eleven or twelve. Playing those tapes and writing my own lyrics to the beat. It made me remember why I loved hip-hop so much. How good it felt to tell stories and express yourself like that. I felt passionate about music again, for a minute anyway. When he told me, I felt that drive again. It was nice.’  
  
Dami makes a quiet sound of acknowledgement.  
  
‘You haven’t been making a lot of music in Inje, have you? Why not?’  
  
Jiyong shakes his head, looking for a good answer but he has none.  
  
‘I don’t know. I’ve done bits and pieces and Seunghyun I have been working on a song together but it’s not anything real. It’s not like before when I would write for catharsis. It doesn't feel imperative anymore,’ he confesses. ‘I miss the connection though. I’ve been telling myself I can’t go back to music because I can’t share it without drawing attention to myself. I’m not ready to be G-Dragon again. So, why make music? Why try? It’s not enough to create. The circle isn’t complete until you share it and someone, somewhere, gets the message.’  
  
‘Are you still happy in Inje?’ Dami asks.  
  
_‘Yes.’_  
  
‘Are you happy career wise? Are you happy not working?’  
  
Jiyong shakes his head and lights his cigarette finally, taking a long drag.  
  
‘No,’ he confesses. ‘Not anymore.’  
  
‘So you’re _not_ happy,’ Dami says gently. ‘I know you’re happy with Seunghyun and your relationship and that you enjoy the peace and quiet, but you need more than that. You need something to do. You need to work.’  
  
‘So what?’ Jiyong pushes. ‘I can’t have everything. I have to give something up. I either work and take my chances and become so strung out that I destroy my relationship and my health, or I maintain my relationship and health and lose my work. I have to let something go.’  
  
‘How do you feel seeing Seunghyun do so much with _his_ time in Inje?’ Dami asks. ‘He got a job and he’s been working hard. He’s done so well for himself this year that he’s going to curate an exhibition at the National Museum. You don’t feel jealous at all? Seunghyun has found balance. He has slowed down at home while maintaining a career.’  
  
‘No. I’m not _jealous_. I’m happy for him. He can_\--- I_ can---’  
  
Jiyong's brain atrophies for a moment while he tries to process an answer. In the meantime, a tear rolls down his cheek and he’s so surprised, he stares at the wetness on his fingers after he brushes it away. Suddenly, it’s like a bolt of lightning splits his skull and lights up his brain. Another tear falls and he groans, covering his face with his hand.  
  
_‘Fuck. _This can’t be all that I am’.  
  
When he can think clearly and string his words together, he speaks in a rough voice.  
  
‘You know, I’m _happy_ with the person I am now. I’m glad that I’m more reliable. I’m glad that I’m well enough now to look after people without sacrificing myself,’ he says. ‘But this isn’t enough. I need something in my life to be about me. I can’t be a house husband until I die. _Fuck.’  
_  
‘So, what?’  
  
‘So, you’re right. I need to work again. I have to figure it out. I can’t retire at 34. I need some pocket of my life where I can be selfish. I miss music. I miss that feeling of sharing something that matters. Something that’s _mine_. I should have been at that meeting. I should have shaken RZA’s hand and said thank-you. That was supposed to be some kind of fucking impetus for me to start working again. I felt it. It was supposed to change things.’  
  
They sit in silence for a while and he sighs a dozen times before Dami speaks.  
  
‘Will you move back to Seoul?’  
  
‘No. I need to figure out a balance. I like Inje. I like who I’ve become there. I like who Seunghyun has become. I’m not ready to throw that away.’  
  
An old memory comes back to him as he ruminates on the situation, and he laughs suddenly.  
  
‘When I was younger, I did this variety show on SBS. I remember saying I wanted to be married so I could have a perfect work-life balance. That was my big plan. I thought it would be easier to focus on my music if I had a reliable family behind me. I thought being married would make the rest of it easier somehow. That I could have it all.’  
  
‘Why would marriage be the key? Aren’t you basically married already?’  
  
‘Not quite. But maybe I should be.’  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘Seunghyun and I should get married,’ Jiyong answers suddenly. He doesn’t think about it before he says it, it just slips out like a natural conclusion. ‘I want us to feel like a fully realized family. Seeing Youngbae with Hyorin and his baby girl and their families mixing together opened my eyes. I want that. Seunghyun and I don’t have that yet. Almost but not quite.’  
  
‘You are a family.’  
  
‘We’re a _kind_ of family,’ Jiyong answers. ‘But I want more than what we have. If his parents accepted our relationship and were part of our lives, the situation with Yeonjun last week wouldn’t have happened. If I was part of the family. I would know their schedules. I would be allowed to call a babysitter or make friends with the neighbours.’  
  
‘So, what?’  
  
‘Those first few weeks in Inje, I was anxious and paranoid that Seunghyun and I wouldn’t survive out there alone. I was constantly afraid that we’d grow sick of each other and go insane. But right in the middle of that, I had this dream one night. In it, we had this lavish wedding at home with our families and friends there. It was night and there was a path inside made of lights that led out into this beautiful covered outdoor area and we got married in front of the people we love’.  
  
‘Oh my gosh. You’re a real romantic, huh’.  
  
‘I never had a dream like that before and haven’t had one since but maybe that meant something. Maybe I’m supposed to do that’.  
  
‘Throw a wedding?’ Dami asks. ‘Who would come? Only a handful of people even know about you’.  
  
‘You? Mom? Dad?’ Jiyong answers seriously. ‘His family too. That’s enough. We could have a small ceremony at home, just us. Later on if we’re lucky, we’ll get to do the real thing with all our friends.’  
  
Dami’s brow furrows.  
  
‘What are you talking about? Are you saying you actually want to throw a wedding? We were just talking about you going back to work and now you want to get married with a _ceremony?’_  
  
‘Yeah, I think I do. Maybe my younger self was right about the work-life balance. Maybe I do need our relationship to be more formal. Maybe I do need to be married. Maybe it would be easier to cope with the difficult parts of going back to work if I had a bigger support network. If Seunghyun and I could be ourselves in our free time, maybe that would help me cope with the unbearable stress. Maybe that would make a difference, I don’t know. Shouldn’t I try? What are we waiting for exactly? Why _shouldn’t_ we have a wedding?’  
  
Dami’s eyebrows rise and she sees his sincerity. She sighs quietly, trying to gather her thoughts.  
  
‘Alright,’ she whispers. ‘But it’s not---’ she struggles to find the right words. ‘Legally binding.’  
  
‘It would still matter to us. To me. I would feel different afterwards. Validated. I don’t know. Seunghyun too. His parents need to accept him for who he is. It would change his life if they showed up for him. It could change everything for us. It would change a lot anyway. Isn’t now a good time? Now that we’ve both stood in Youngbae’s nursery and understood that we can’t ever have kids--’  
  
‘You don’t kno—’  
  
‘We _do_ know,’ Jiyong cuts in. ‘When I was here a few weeks ago, when Seunghyun and I fought? It was about the fact we’ll never have kids. We finally had to have that conversation and face it. And we did. So, if we can’t have that, why can’t we have a wedding? Why can’t Seunghyun’s parents do the right thing and show up?’  
  
‘That doesn’t sound likely, the way things are currently,’  
  
‘No,’ Jiyong says, sweeping crumbs off the table. ‘So, I’ll talk to them first’.  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘I’ve been making this photo album,’ he says, stubbing out his cigarette. ‘Pictures from our life together. Nothing explicit. Just important moments from our relationship. From the beginning all the way to now. I’ve been working on it for weeks,’ he says. ‘I wanted to pick photos that had nice stories attached. I’ll finish it and take it over there and show them. I’ll explain some of the pictures. I’ll _talk_ to them’.  
  
‘Oh Jiyong, I don’t think that’s a good idea.’  
  
‘Why not? Maybe I can get through to them, I don’t know. Who has a better chance than me? Seunghyun finds it impossible to talk to them about us or him being gay because he’s too close to it. His emotions are too raw. I can push through it. I can shake them out of their silence.’  
  
‘He wouldn’t want you to do that. I _know_ he wouldn’t. He would _hat_e that’.  
  
‘I know, but he isn’t going to hear about it until it’s too late. Don’t say anything to him. Let me try, okay? Let me plead our case. I’ve been making this album for weeks. I suppose I was planning to do it either way.’  
  
Dami sighs wearily and throws her hands up in defeat. This lunch has veered so far off course, she’s taken her hands off the wheel.  
  
‘Alright.’  
  
For a while, they sit in silence finishing off the last of their coffees. Jiyong’s mind wanders to a possible confrontation with Seunghyun’s parents. He’s known for a while that it might happen. He has to talk to them earnestly. Both of them. He has to make them understand.  
  
Seunghyun’s opportunity with the National Museum has given him something else to think about. It has been a blessing in its distraction, but what happens when it’s over? How can he forget what Seunghyun suffered because of his parents silence? The malaise that filled their home? Seunghyun was in pieces. He was broken and that doesn’t go away because of a job.  
  
Seunghyun can say his parent’s reaction doesn’t matter to him anymore, but you don’t always get to choose when and how you move on. Seunghyun’s work and his happiness here in Seoul right now? It’s temporary. Jiyong knows it. He’s been pasted back together but the cracks are still there. Something has to give. They have to deal with this problem. There has to be some kind of resolution between them all.  
  
He loves Seunghyun and their life but things need to change going forward. He needs to work again. He does. For that, they need support in their lives. They need their families to love them. _Both_ families. Seunghyun needs his connection to his mother back. They need options.  
  
‘Are you free on the weekend?’ Jiyong asks, already thinking. ‘If not, could you make yourself free?’  
  
‘I suppose so, if it’s important. Why?’  
  
‘Help me plan my wedding.’  
  
‘What’s the rush?’ Dami asks, incredulous.  
  
‘When I talk to Seunghyun’s parents, I think I should invite them to our wedding. If my photos and pleas don’t help our cause, maybe giving them a time sensitive ultimatum will. It might force them to confront things. We should get married soon. This month. Why wait any longer?’  
  
Dami’s face crumples in abject despair at how insane this all sounds.  
  
‘And when are you telling Seunghyun about all this?’  
  
‘Five minutes before we get married,’ Jiyong answers. ‘I'll throw a surprise wedding.’  
  
‘People don’t usually have surprise weddings for a reason.’  
  
‘We’re not your usual people.’  
  
Dami stares at him, emotionless, for almost an entire minute, scrutinising him. Eventually her expression softens and she shrugs, dazed.  
  
‘For the record, I sincerely think this is a bad idea, but i can see you're going to do it either way, so I'll help. A wedding with less than 10 guests. How hard can that be to plan?’  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
For the next two days, Jiyong thinks about this symbolic ceremony and the more he does, the better he feels. For reasons he doesn’t even understand, he feels like this wedding will be a catalyst to improving other parts of their life.  
  
Seunghyun has always been romantic in very physical ways. Not meaning sex, but gifts. He is thoughtful and shows it in ways that are tangible. The house in Inje is littered with sentimental notes and handmade gifts, not to mention all the costly purchased presents. Even hanging some of Jiyong’s paintings when they first moved in was a physical gesture. Something Jiyong could see every day. The receipt framed on their dresser was only one in a long list of items that proved Seunghyun’s love.  
  
Jiyong has always felt as though he lagged behind. He loves Seunghyun but his own gestures are more ephemeral. He shows his love in the things he says and does. The way he supports and roots for Seunghyun. Their love languages are different maybe. But a wedding? Seunghyun proposed, isn’t it right that Jiyong surprise him back? They have been through so much lately, it feels like the right way to draw a line in the sand.  
  
When he meets Dami on the weekend, they figure out a way to make the dream Jiyong had months earlier a reality. Fairy lights, lighting cues, an elaborate plan to keep Seunghyun out of Inje for a day to set up, coordinating parents. It all comes together so quickly and easily. Jiyong knows exactly what he wants and how to do it. After only a few hours, Dami has her shopping list and instructions and all Jiyong needs is a celebrant and Seunghyun’s parents.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
He doesn’t lie to Seunghyun very often. Little things, absolutely. White lies keep the peace and keep the world spinning. But big lies? Important lies? Almost never. So, a part of him feels guilty when he tells Seunghyun to go back to Inje alone. He makes up an excuse about wanting to meet with Yang. He is evasive on purpose so Seunghyun doesn’t ask questions. He makes it seem like a personal matter, something he needs to do alone and will talk about when he’s ready. It’s an odd lie, but one Jiyong knows will encourage Seunghyun to go home early. To top it off, Jiyong reminds Seunghyun the house will be musty and needs a thorough cleaning.  
  
‘Oh, now I get it. You want me to go home first so I can dust the house for you? So you don’t have to do it?’  
  
‘Bingo!’  
  
Seunghyun heads home easily like a good spouse, trusting Jiyong’s request and explanation. He has missed so much work, they are two weeks overdue anyway. He doesn’t need much convincing.  
  
‘I’ll be right behind you. I’ll see you in a day or two.’  
  
With Seunghyun gone, Jiyong quickly finishes his photo album. He has been hiding it in his suitcase for weeks. He brought it with him knowing deep down, he would try and talk to Seunghyun’s parents. He just didn’t know that he would be doing it alone. But it’s better this way. He would find it hard to speak to them earnestly with Seunghyun in the room and all their complex emotions flying around.  
  
Besides, when he speaks to them he doesn’t want to talk exclusively about his relationship with Seunghyun. Maybe, he wants them to understand their own actions and how they’ve hurt their son as well. Shouldn’t they know about Seunghyun's pain? Maybe someone needs to tell them the consequences of their actions. Explain to them what it was like trying to get Seunghyun out of bed, trying to get him to smile and laugh, trying to recognise him at all on some days. Their silence has damaged him.  
  
When he finally makes it to their front door, his hands are trembling. It takes two goes to press the doorbell so he stuffs his hands back into his pockets. His photo album is in a bag hanging from his elbow. Nondescript. They won’t know what they’re getting into until it’s too late. He just has to get inside.  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Seunghyun’s mother answers the door as always. Such a small woman, Jiyong wonders where her intimidating aura comes from. She is surprised to see him at first, then for a moment, panic flits across her eyes.  
  
‘Is Seunghyun alright?’  
  
‘_Yes,’_ Jiyong answers. ‘He’s fine. He’s at home. I just--- I wanted to speak with you for a moment. I was wondering if I could come in? I actually have something for you,’ he says, lifting his arm a little. ‘Something I want you to see.’  
  
She looks at the bag and Jiyong _sees_ more than hears her sigh. He can practically see her thoughts, weighing up the pros and cons of indulging whatever this is. There is a drawn out wait before she steps back and opens the door enough for him to slip through. Despite everything going on, Seunghyun’s mother is always outwardly polite. Her barbs are more subtle than closing a door in someone’s face. So, she acts like the good hostess that she is. She leads him to the couch he sat on days earlier and she gestures for him to sit down. She even offers him a drink.  
  
‘No, thank-you. But--- is Mr. Choi here too?’  
  
His voice breaks in the middle of the question and he clears his throat, trying to cast off his anxiety, but where will it go? He is asking Seunghyun’s father to come downstairs so he can talk about his relationship with Seunghyun. He is accosting Seunghyun’s parents in their own home so they have to face and acknowledge it.  
  
Seunghyun’s mother frowns so suddenly she doesn’t have time to control her expression. Now, Jiyong can see the panic bubbling beneath the surface. She doesn’t want to walk into a situation where she is forced to confront anything, let alone talk about it. What other reason is there for him being here? For asking about her husband? But, true to form, she is polite and honest.  
  
‘He’s upstairs.’  
  
Jiyong takes a moment before answering in a polite tone.  
  
‘Could you possibly call him down? I would really like to talk to you both. What I have in this bag, I would like both of you to see.’  
  
She hesitates and closes her eyes as if searching for the strength to go through with it. But ultimately, she does. She politely excuses herself and disappears upstairs. A minute later she returns and at Jiyong’s prompting, sits on the couch beside him, though she leaves a significant gap. Soon after, Seunghyun’s father follows, says a gruff greeting and stands in the kitchen ten metres away.  
  
Then, there is silence. They stare at one another and it is so quiet in the house, Jiyong can hear the hands of a clock in the next room ticking. His anxiety levels shoot even higher. He clears his throat awkwardly.  
  
‘Wow. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure how to start,’ he says, voice shaking. His hands are trembling. He closes them into fists on his knees to make it less obvious but unravels them out of anxiety. He touches his face and his collar. He tugs on his sleeves and wipes his palms on his thighs. He bumps the bag by his feet and it falls on its side.  
  
‘Oh,’ he whispers in relief. ‘I guess I’ll start here’.  
  
He pulls the album from the bag and lays it on the coffee table in front on him, nudging it closer to Seunghyun’s mother so she can see better. He looks at Seunghyun’s father across the room but it’s obvious he has no intention of moving from his place.  
  
Jiyong opens the album to the first page. On it, is a photograph of he and Seunghyun when they were sixteen and seventeen. Seunghyun has his arm around his shoulder and they’re both posing like the American rappers they wanted to be. It’s embarrassing in hindsight but it’s a reminder that they were friends for a long time. People who had the same dreams. Underneath the photo, like all of them, is a rough date and a brief description.  
  
‘I’ve made you a photo album,’ Jiyong tells Seunghyun’s mother. He speaks loudly enough for Seunghyun’s father to hear. ‘I haven’t even done this for my own family. I just thought you might want to see some of the parts of Seunghyun’s life that you’ve missed out on over the last 15 years. Things from _our_ life.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother doesn’t say anything but her brow furrows when she looks at the photo of them as teens. She folds her hands in her lap.  
  
‘We’ve known each other a long time,’ Jiyong says quietly, turning the page.  
  
The second photo is similar to the first. He was seventeen and BIGBANG was almost a reality. They were training hard. They were starved and exhausted. Here, is a picture of them finding time to relax and laugh between all the hardship. He and Seunghyun are posing together in crazy outfits from the wardrobe department at the bottom of the old YG building. Old stage outfits and MV costumes. Things used and unused. Seunghyun has about ten layers on.  
  
‘When we were teenagers, I thought Seunghyun was the coolest guy on Earth,’ Jiyong tells her. ‘I had already met so many celebrities and icons, but when Seunghyun and I spent time together, I was always grateful. He felt so much bigger than me sometimes. I never knew If I wanted to be friends with him or to _be_ him. I think I unconsciously imitated him sometimes.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother touches her eyebrow, like a nervous tic, but she remains quiet. She allows him to turn the page. The more Jiyong talks, the easier it becomes.  
  
In the third photo, he is eighteen. They are together with a mutual friend, sitting on a couch together. It’s a boring photo and on the face of it, it signifies nothing. But when he was going through all his photos to determine what he put in the album, he remembered the significance of this date and decided to put it in. So he could _tell _her about the important moments, if she let him.  
  
‘This is a boring photo. Seunghyun was nineteen. We had debuted not long before this. It’s just memorable to me because two weeks after this photo was taken, Seunghyun and I---’ he hesitates and looks up at her. ‘We kissed for the first time.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them, she resolutely refuses to look him in the eyes. She keeps them locked on the photo album. Jiyong doesn’t look up at Seunghyun’s father. Just knowing he’s in the room and heard what he just said makes Jiyong’s heart pound. He begins to sweat.  
  
With trembling fingers, he turns the next few pages slowly and explains where and when they were taken. They are all photos of them together. Innocuous photos mostly that marked important moments in their lives. Backstage at an awards ceremony. In the car on the way to a concert. For all of them, Seunghyun’s mother says nothing.  
  
Then, Jiyong reaches a two-page spread of overlapping photos between 2010 and 2012. There are photos of them together and individually.  
  
‘These photos of Seunghyun alone are pictures that I took when he wasn’t looking,’ Jiyong explains softly. ‘Around this time, we realised we liked each other. It was like having a schoolyard crush. I couldn’t resist taking photos. Later, I realised he was doing the same thing. These photos of me are pictures he took when I wasn’t looking. These photographs are how we saw each other.’  
  
He gently touches a photo of Seunghyun laughing. He wants to be more explicit but this is so unconscionably awkward he doesn’t know if he can tell Seunghyun’s parents that he found their son beautiful. That he was rapt with every movement and laugh and sigh and smile and look. He took so many pictures of Seunghyun when they were young, they could fill 100 albums.  
  
‘In the middle of this period,’ Jiyong says tentatively, swallowing a lump in his throat. ‘I told Seunghyun that I loved him.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother makes a quiet sound but it’s not legible. Jiyong flips backwards a few pages and gestures vaguely at all the previous moments.  
  
‘Between the first kiss and me saying that to him, we were spending all our free time together,’ he explains. ‘I don’t know what he told you about our relationship, but it happened slowly. We were never apart. He did things for me that nobody else would ever do. He supported me in ways my other friends weren’t capable of. I felt the same. I wanted to make him happy and protect him from things that hurt him. Nobody was prouder than I was when he did well. I didn’t know what those feelings were for a long time. I thought we were just really good friends, but---’ he flips back to the two-page spread. ‘Somewhere in here, I realised what those feelings were and I told him. I didn’t feel bad about it or anxious. I just told him I loved him because I did.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother looks at him and they make eye contact for a fraction of a section before she looks away.  
  
‘He said it back,’ Jiyong whispers.  
  
The next few pages are similar photographs of them together at parties. Them posing with celebrities they admired. Them working in the studio together. On tour. On stage. In dressing rooms. On vacation. In America. In Seoul. In Jeju. On beaches. In the back of cars. All over the place.  
  
Jiyong tries to explain each one and what they were doing at the time, whichever memory of their shared life had significance to the photo attached. He tries to keep most of them platonic memories while highlighting the longevity and fullness of their shared life.  
  
A few pages on, there is a photograph Seunghyun took of them lying on the floor in Jiyong’s apartment. Around them is an ocean of torn paper and ribbons. A fluffy white ball disappears off the edge of the photo, attached to a Santa hat. Jiyong feels uncomfortable telling the truth about this photo, but it’s important in the history of their lives.  
  
‘Quite a few years ago now, I told my parents that I had a schedule over Christmas and I couldn’t spend the holidays with them. Seunghyun said the same thing to you.’  
  
Jiyong touches the edge of the photo and smiles faintly.  
  
‘This was the first time we put ourselves first. We decided to spend Christmas alone together. I missed my family and he missed you but being able to have this time together meant a lot to us. We decorated a tree and wrapped presents for each other and wore stupid hats and listened to Christmas music like we were kids.’ Jiyong shakes his head, more serious. ‘It was wrong to lie and I’m sorry for that, but I don’t _regret_ it. This was a chance for us to be thankful for each other and to not spend the holidays lying about our relationship. It’s a hard time of year to be apart. Especially when you can’t tell anyone who you _are_ or who you’re missing. The first few Christmases we spent apart when we were dating? They were hard.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother makes an ambiguous sound that Jiyong can’t decipher. He taps the photo anyway.  
  
‘This was a beautiful Christmas at the time. It felt like we squeezed a six-month vacation into these three days,’ he says. ‘I remember us talking about the future. We tried to imagine what it would be like to have Christmas as a family. To not have to choose between our own families or each other. At the time, it seemed like a fantasy that could never come true.’  
  
After this, Jiyong blows through a few more pages of platonic moments that have less suggestive stories attached until they arrive at a period that is _less_ platonic. Jiyong has included photographs from a holiday they took to France together that was very much intended to be romantic. This was a time for them to be alone and relax.  
  
Jiyong taps the first photo and says, ‘this was in Paris a few years ago. Seunghyun had a photoshoot in Italy and wanted me to go to France with him afterwards. I couldn’t, obviously,’ he says. ‘The media and our fans were scrutinising our every move. So, he travelled first and three days later I flew to London. I had to get a friend to drive me to Paris so I could meet him there.’  
  
The apartment Seunghyun found was gorgeous. Elegant with tall ceilings and wall panelling, parquet floors and ornate cornices. At the time, his own influence in the world of fashion was at its peak. He was recognisable in Paris, which complicated things. Too easily seen in the day, they spent their daylight hours sleeping or staying in. Jiyong wanted to live like the caricature of a Parisian so they spent half their time naked, lounging around together, smoking cigarettes and having sex. One night, they watched a graphic film about a threesome. A tangled web of complex emotions between two men and a woman. At the height of the film, there was a passionate confrontation. One of the men, in an apartment similar to theirs, held the woman against the wall by her jaw and they had a spirited back and forth that ended with him masturbating her in the hallway. It was rough and violent but consensual. The roughness was a way for them to exorcise their feelings. A surprisingly graphic sex scene followed that was unexpectedly passionate and beautiful in its intensity. The music and the cinematography and the acting elevated this sex to something that was almost art.  
  
A day later, he and Seunghyun almost re-enacted it play for play. The sex they had was rough and domineering, so intense with their emotions Jiyong could hardly think straight. He woke up the next day with bruises on his hips and tender thighs---- and pastries on the bedside table. Seunghyun had bought breakfast and woke him up with a kiss so sweet and gentle, Jiyong fell in love with him all over again.  
  
‘Paris was nice,’ Jiyong says wistfully. ‘We couldn’t go out in the daylight together or people would recognise us. But it was winter, so we went out at night with scarves around our faces and nobody took a second glance. We got to hold hands looking at the lights of the Eiffel tower. It was really nice. For a moment, we felt like normal people. This photo,’ he says, running a fingertip over their joined shoulders, ‘was taken outside a little café that was beautifully lit. For a second, we pulled our scarves down and smiled for this picture without anyone seeing us. We held hands the entire way home and I imagined us living another life. Maybe, in the back of my head, that was when I first started thinking about getting away from it all.’ He frowns and shrugs. ‘At the end of the week, Seunghyun flew home and I had to drive back to England and stay there for four days before heading back to Seoul, just so nobody would ask any questions.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother nods slightly and speaks for the first time.  
  
‘It must have been difficult to avoid the eyes of the world for so long.’  
  
‘It _was.’_  
  
He spares her the details. How even on a brief jaunt to Paris, he had to drive 6 hours and sit in the Eurotunnel just to limit the chances of someone seeing him and placing him there. Their whole life together has been full of these long-ways-around to try and keep their anonymity. It’s exhausting. He wishes he knew how to tell her that. If he could, maybe she would understand how desperately they need allies and people they can be honest with.  
  
She turns the next page herself and they have jumped to the present. He had to be careful with the pictures he chose. So many of their photos from the last few years have a level of intimacy that might make her uncomfortable. They aren’t sexual, just comfortable and loving. He has tried to keep the photographs mostly platonic in appearance. The first photo on this page is Seunghyun standing outside their home in Inje with his arms out. It’s a classic corny, ‘we just moved in’ picture. The next few pages are photos of their home. On one page, Jiyong taps a photo of Seunghyun in the greenhouse holding a small potted plant.  
  
‘He grew these himself. He was kind of hopeless when he first started, but now he has all sorts of things growing in there. Plants, flowers, vegetables.’  
  
‘Miracles happen,’ she says under her breath.  
  
Jiyong smiles despite himself. Given Seunghyun’s track-record for unusual and expensive hobbies, this must be a benign relief. The next photo in the series is of the cellar and Seunghyun’s prolific wine collection. She makes a sound of disapproval in her throat.  
  
‘He drinks a normal amount,’ Jiyong says knowingly. ‘He’s doing good. He’s healthy and happy. He works out a few times a week. He gardens. He has a job he enjoys doing that doesn’t cause him too much stress. He has a good life.’  
  
She closes the book despite not being at the end and Jiyong frowns. Even after seeing these pictures, hasn’t she softened? Aren’t there things she wants to ask him or talk about? All he wants is for her to understand that Seunghyun has a happy life. Isn’t that what every mother wants?  
  
He waits for her to say something about the album or the stories he has shared. He isn’t sure what the next step in the conversation is, but he knows it’s her turn. He has confronted her in her own home. She has to _say_ something. Maybe, he hasn’t been as eloquent as he would have liked. Without knowing what Seunghyun told his parents about their relationship, he is wary about starting from the beginning or going into too much detail. Besides, it’s not really about the details. He just wants them to know Seunghyun is happy and that it’s okay to acknowledge the person he really is.  
  
When he realises nobody else is going to speak, Jiyong sighs quietly and tries to think of something to say that will actually start a conversation.  
  
‘Look,’ he begins nervously. ‘Seunghyun and I have been in a committed relationship for over a decade. He has lived in my apartment and I’ve lived in his. Now, we are living in the middle of nowhere together in a house that belongs to us both,’ Jiyong says sentimentally. ‘We’re engaged,’ he says, holding his ring finger up. ‘We have spent more than half our lives together one way or another. I know everything there is to know about him and he knows everything about me. We are in love and that hasn’t changed in the decade since I first told him. These photographs,’ he says, gesturing to the album, ‘are just a handful of innocuous memories. I didn’t want to overwhelm you but there are thousands of these. I could make five hundred albums out of our personal pictures. We have lived a whole life together that our families couldn’t be a part of because we were afraid to tell you all,’ he says. ‘But now we _have_ told you, and we want you to _know_ us. We want you to be part of our life.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother is kind enough to ignore his trembling voice but she doesn’t answer him. Her lips part to speak but nothing comes out. She touches her forehead, overwrought. Jiyong gives her time to process his words and respond but an answer never comes. His trembling lessens, replaced by a budding frustration that this conversation is only happening in one direction. He is risking everything and being earnest. Doesn’t that matter?  
  
‘Seunghyun is happier and healthier now than he’s ever been,’ Jiyong says more resolutely. ‘I’m part of that. The choices we’ve made together are part of it. I help make him happy. Our _life_ makes him happy. Does that mean anything to you? Do these pictures,’ he says, gesturing at the book, ‘mean anything to you? To either of you?’  
  
Seunghyun’s father avoids his gaze but his mother answers simply and unemotionally.  
  
‘We’re glad he’s happy.’  
  
‘Are you?’  
  
He feels a new swell of frustration mixed with sudden hesitation. How will Seunghyun feel when he finds out about this? Showing his parents a photo album is one thing but confronting them is another. Will Seunghyun understand he had good intentions or will he be hurt by this? What if he makes things worse? What if he causes an irreparable rift in Seunghyun’s family because he had to interfere? He feels sick at the uncertainty.  
  
Seunghyun’s mother speaks in that same simplistic way and gestures toward the photo album.  
  
‘This is a nice gesture,’ she says. ‘But I’m not sure what you want us to say in this moment.’  
  
_‘Anything,’_ Jiyong answers. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t understand your silence. Are you holding back or do you really have nothing to say? Is there nothing you want to say to Seunghyun about what we’ve both told you? Or to me?’  
  
‘Seunghyun and I talk.’  
  
‘Not about _this_. Seunghyun has been out for two months and you haven’t said a word about it. I’ve been in your house since then without you saying anything to me either. I am engaged to your son. You know that. I’ve been sitting next to you for half an hour and I _still_ don’t know how you feel.’ He looks imploringly at her and Seunghyun’s father, both of them straight-faced and unemotional. Their controlled manner makes him feel insane.  
  
‘Is Seunghyun a disappointment to you?’ he asks suddenly, overstepping. ‘You disapprove but you don’t want to tell him, so saying nothing is a compromise? Is that it? You all agree to live in this fantasy where his confession never happened? Like he didn’t reach out to you? Because he _did_. You remember that, right? He reached out to you and his hand is _still_ out,’ Jiyong says, his own hand grasping at air. ‘He’s still _waiting_ for you to acknowledge him.’  
  
They both stare at him like he’s gone insane and Jiyong shakes his head, looking at his feet. The last thing he wants is for either of them to call Seunghyun and say, _your deranged fiancé came into our home and abused us!_  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ he says quietly. ‘I just don’t get it.’  
  
He shrugs and looks at them again, his palms facing upward. This may be a lost cause after all. How is it possible for two people to speak so little about something so important?  
  
‘Your only son told you he was gay and that he’s been in a relationship for almost fifteen years and you didn’t ask him about it? Why?’ Jiyong asks. ‘You’ve known _me_ since I was a teenager. You have always been polite and courteous to me. Now, I’m sitting here telling you that I’ve been dating your son for over a decade, behind your back, and you have nothing to say? Nothing good or bad? Nothing at all?’  
  
Seunghyun’s father sighs loudly but doesn’t stretch to form words.  
  
Jiyong gestures at the photo album.  
  
‘All of this really means nothing to you? Seunghyun’s life means nothing?’  
  
‘That’s not it.’  
  
‘So, what is it?’ Jiyong presses. ‘When I told my mother I liked men and explained my relationship with Seunghyun, she walked away from me. She locked herself in a bedroom,’ Jiyong says emotionally. ‘When I followed her, she cried her eyes out. I thought I had lost her forever.’  
  
Talking about his own mother’s reaction seems to spark one in Seunghyun’s. She clears her throat, uncomfortable. Some budding emotion maybe.  
  
‘I got on my knees on the floor and I hugged my mother’s legs and begged her to tell me she still loved me,’ Jiyong says. ‘Telling her who I was, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was so afraid. She told me her tears were because she had missed so much of my life. She was upset that I didn’t trust her enough to be honest. She told me how she felt.’  
  
He turns his body so he’s facing Seunghyun’s mother more completely, so she can’t escape his gaze or attention.  
  
‘Telling you was the hardest thing Seunghyun has ever done. Do you understand that? He tore his heart out so he could be vulnerable with you and you didn’t say anything. I don’t understand that.’  
  
She shakes her head, upset at his audacity but for all his criticisms and accusations, neither of Seunghyun’s parents are saying anything. Their silence defies understanding. He has overstepped more than he ever could have imagined. He is speaking to them in a way that under any other circumstances would be unforgivable.  
  
‘Your son is amazing,’ Jiyong says confidently, changing tact. ‘Before we ever had a relationship, I was in awe of him. He was so intelligent and funny and kind and he had so much passion for life. I was so interested in whatever he was doing. He would talk about his interests with such detail and intensity. When he talked about his love for something, I wanted to love it too. At other times, he was like a child. He had this innocent energy and way of looking at things that most people would laugh at, but I never did.’  
  
Seunghyun’s father looks at the ground. Jiyong feels sorry for him if hearing kind words about his son makes him uncomfortable.  
  
‘The point is, I thought he was almost perfect. When I was a teenager, I had the world in the palm of my hand and I still had Seunghyun on a pedestal. He was always this ideal. And he got better,’ Jiyong says breathlessly. ‘Over the years, I thought better and better of him. He worked hard to grow out of his failings. He was always trying to improve himself. Every day, I look at him and I’m impressed with the man he’s become,’ Jiyong says. ‘And I want you to _know_ him.’  
  
‘We do know him,’ she answers quickly.  
  
Jiyong smiles in answer and shakes his head, his eyes beginning to water because these people have no idea. They are missing so much and they can’t understand the loss. They can’t grasp it.  
  
‘No you _don’t,_’ Jiyong says emphatically. ‘You haven’t seen his face light up when he talks about his new job, because he’s so happy with the choices he’s made. You haven’t heard his passion and excitement for what he’s doing now. You haven’t felt the hugs he gives me when I meet him at the door after a long day. You haven’t heard the way he talks to me about our future, like it’s the best possible one. You haven’t heard his new laughter or smelled his cooking in our kitchen, or felt the change in him. You haven’t been in his home. You haven’t touched his new life. Who Seunghyun is today is so different from who he was a year ago and you don’t _know_ that.’  
  
His mother opens her mouth but Jiyong doesn’t allow her to speak until he is finished. A tear runs down his cheek and he doesn’t wipe it away.  
  
‘You haven’t heard the way Seunghyun spoke to my mother when my parents visited us in Inje. He sounded happy and free because he could talk about our life with somebody else. It unburdened him. It was meaningful,’ Jiyong whispers. ‘Seunghyun is _desperate_ to share his life with you. It’s all he wants. He will never really be happy again until he gets that. Until he can _talk _to you about his life. You don’t need to be his cheerleader, and you don’t even have to like me. He just needs to know that you acknowledge this. That his life is real, that it _exists_. Ignoring it is---’ Jiyong hesitates before finishing. ‘It’s so _cruel.’_  
  
_‘Cruel? _I’m his mother.’  
  
‘Exactly,’ Jiyong answers, blunt. ‘You’re his mother and you still haven’t told him it’s okay to be who he is. So now I’m telling you what _I _know. I know things about him he doesn’t know himself because he is a _part_ of me. Because it’s my _job_ to know him. Even if I didn’t know him as well as I do, I would _still_ know how he feels because you two have hurt him so deeply, a total stranger could see it.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother looks angry at the suggestion she has harmed Seunghyun in any way and something in Jiyong snaps because how can they be so oblivious? Whether Seunghyun would approve or not, he vents his anger. It just flows out of him. He has no control.  
  
‘What you’re doing is _killing_ him,’ he says angrily. ‘Since coming out, he has been so miserable and shut down at times, it frightens me. He has cried himself to sleep. You have literally sucked the joy out of our lives. Maybe you think you’re doing the right thing by carrying on as if everything is normal. Maybe, you just need more time to process what he’s told you. I understand that completely. But you’ve made him feel insignificant. Like who he is matters so little to you, you can’t even _acknowledge_ him. Can’t you grasp what that’s like for him? He _loves_ you. He wants you to _know_ him and you’re not interested? Tell him you understand! Tell him it’s okay to be who he is! That’s all he needs from you and you can’t do it?’  
  
‘That’s _enough!’  
_  
Jiyong jumps in shock. Seunghyun’s fathers voice projects across the room. He hasn’t shouted, but his voice is so naturally loud and stern, it startles Jiyong out of his attack. Jiyong wipes the tears from his face and shakes his head, cowed but unable to stop.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Jiyong says more earnestly, eyes darting between them. ‘I’m sorry if this whole thing has been difficult for you. I’m sorry the future you wanted for Seunghyun won’t happen the way you imagined. I’m sorry he can’t give you any grandkids. I’m sorry you can’t be proud of his happiness openly because people would shun you. I’m _sorry,_’ he says emphatically. ‘I’m sorry the harsh realities he and I have to face are a burden on you as well. I really do understand how you might feel overwhelmed. I _do.’_  
  
More tears roll down his face and he wipes them away, frustrated.  
  
‘But I love Seunghyun,’ he says in a broken voice. ‘I _love_ him.’  
  
His mother flinches but Jiyong persists.  
  
‘I have loved him for half my life. Our relationship isn’t a phase or something that will go away if you wait long enough.’ Seunghyun’s mother clears her throat emotionally and Jiyong turns his palms up in silent apology. ‘I’m not saying that’s what you’re hoping for,’ he says. ‘I don’t want to be disrespectful and tell you how you feel. I just need you to understand that our relationship isn’t going to change. Our life together will continue and frankly, I think you could do worse than me. Picking up Yeonjun in an emergency isn't all I'm good for. Whether you like me or not, I will always be here for your family. I will answer any call, no matter what. Isn't that worth something?'  
  
He shakes his head, embarrassed to talk himself up, but isn’t it the truth?  
  
‘Nobody on earth will ever love Seunghyun like I love him. Nobody on Earth will do more for him than I will. I would give up anything,’ Jiyong whispers. ‘I would _do_ anything for him. I would---,’ he stumbles over his words because he has never had to think about it before. ‘I would die for him. I really would. How many people can say that? Don’t you want the person in his life to be what I am to him? What more can you ask for? What more can you _expect?_’  
  
Seunghyun’s father speaks again, repeating his early remonstrance.  
  
‘That’s enough’.  
  
Jiyong ignores him and pushes on.  
  
‘Seunghyun feels so small and hurt because you’re both pretending this isn’t happening. It’s been two months and you still haven’t talked to him about this. You won't say anything! You're doing it to me right now. This silence? This is the worst case scenario. Seunghyun is withholding beautiful moments of his life from you. Doesn’t that bother you?’ Jiyong asks emotionally, begging Seunghyun’s mother to have a reaction. ‘A few weeks ago, he got such amazing news and he hasn’t told you because he doesn’t want you to pick and choose which parts of him you _want._ Do you get that?’ Jiyong asks forcefully, looking between them again. ‘If you two don’t make more of an effort to acknowledge his life, he will eventually shut you out completely because it will be easier for him to pretend he has no parents, than to have parents who see somebody else when he walks into a room’.  
  
_‘Kwon Jiyong!’_  
  
Jiyong jumps again, startled. His eyes shut tight and he bites his lip as Seunghyun’s father raises his voice for the first time. Jiyong shakes his head, tears silently rolling down his cheeks. This was his one chance to try and reach these people and this is the best he could do? He came here to fight for the man he loves, and he has achieved nothing. When he opens his eyes, he shrugs emotionally, looking between them.  
  
‘I don’t know if I could survive three months of this. I don’t know how I would cope if I came out to my parents and they pretended it never happened. I think it would _destroy_ me. I would rather they were honest with me. Even if I lost them.’  
  
Seunghyun’s father crosses half the distance between them and Jiyong flinches. Will he throw him out? How many seconds does he have left? What can he say before his ass hits the sidewalk? Jiyong ignores Seunghyun’s father approaching and focuses all of his attention on Seunghyun’s mother instead. He lowers his voice but speaks clearly and calmly, leaning in to try and capture her full attention.  
  
‘In the back of the photo album there are some letters Seunghyun has written me over the years. Copies of them anyway. I picked some of the polite ones so you could read them and try to understand. There are also a few letters of my own,’ Jiyong rushes. ‘There are also some sheets of paper with information on them. A few drawings and some plans.’  
  
He takes a shaky breath and makes sure he looks them both in the eye before continuing. He raises a hand to stop Seunghyun's father from physically interrupting him.  
  
‘In two weeks, even though it won’t be official, I’ve planned a private surprise wedding ceremony and I’m going to marry your son,’ he says resolutely. ‘My family will be there and you should be too. When Seunghyun cries on our wedding day, I want them to be tears of happiness, not heartbreak because you didn't show up.'  
  
Seunghyun’s mother looks shocked. Her fingers touch the cover of the photo album unconsciously but she doesn’t open it. She just stares at the leather in silence.  
  
Seunghyun’s father lays a firm hand on his shoulder and Jiyong flinches. He is pulled off the couch and manoeuvred toward the door. Seunghyun's fathers actions aren’t threatening or angry, he is just vaguely disappointed. He simply wants him to leave. Like the last few months, Seunghyun’s parents are so controlled in their emotions it’s hard to imagine they have deep feelings at all.  
  
Tears roll down Jiyong’s cheeks and he can’t stop them. He isn’t consciously crying. He isn’t sobbing. He isn’t making a sound.  
  
At the door, he plants his feet and stops. He doesn’t allow Seunghyun’s father to push him out the door. He turns and for the first time, speaks to him directly. This man he has barely spoken to in his life.  
  
‘The ceremony is on the 17th, around 7pm. I have it all written down in the book.’  
  
Jiyong opens his wallet and pulls out the little card with the hand-written dates on it. He holds it out to Seunghyun’s father who looks at it but won’t take it. Jiyong lets his hand linger in the air a few seconds before setting the card down on the bureau beside him.  
  
‘It would be better if you came early, while it’s still light out,’ he says quietly. ‘Then we can run through the rehearsal. I have a whole thing planned. You’ll need to hear about the cues and everything. Seunghyun will like it.’  
  
Now, it’s his turn to avoid eye contact. His throat is dry and raw. He feels emotional and hollowed out at the same time, like he’s teetering on the edge of a cliff. He walks the last few steps to the door. Seunghyun’s father opens it for him but Jiyong hesitates in the doorway again. He turns back one last time so they can both hear him and in a quiet but polite voice says his last piece.  
  
‘I hope you come to our wedding,’ he says. ‘Both of you. I would really like you to be there. He needs that. He thinks you don’t love him as he is. So be there. Just show up. That’s all. Stay for a few days. See where we live. Let Seunghyun show you his life. Where he works. All of it. Just _come_. This wedding is symbolic. It's for_ us_. So be a part of that. Because Seunghyun is amazing. You _know_ he is. He’s a _good son_. He would do anything for you. He would do anything for this family. He has provided for _all_ of you. No part of him is bad or wrong and you know that. Can’t you _act like it?_’  
  
He is quickly nudged outside and the door shuts behind him so quickly, he almost loses his balance. A little breath shudders out of him and he stares at his car in the driveway with a horrible sense of dread, like he’s just done something unforgivable.  
  
The moment the car door closes with him inside, he bursts into tears.  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Dami looks at him with veiled disappointment and he grimaces, hearing her unspoken remonstrance before the door even closes behind her. She is checking up on him. He lets her into Seunghyun’s apartment and avoids eye contact, retreating back into the kitchen. He returns to his bar stool and takes another swig of whiskey. It was the only alcohol left in Seunghyun’s empty home, forgotten in the back of a cupboard.  
  
‘It didn’t go well, I take it?’  
  
Jiyong grimaces when Dami drops her handbag on the counter. She has taken one look at him and surmised the whole of it already.  
  
‘Just like you predicted,’ he says, scratching the label on the bottle. He has already had too much to drink. He only meant to have a strengthening sip for courage, but misery fell around him like a curtain.  
  
He is drunk.  
  
‘What happened?’ she asks.  
  
‘Why don’t we forget about it?’ Jiyong proffers. ‘That was yesterday. Today is a new day. Forget it. _Move on.’  
_  
He has spent the better part of a day unable to escape what happened. The confrontation with Seunghyun’s parents has played in his head on a loop, unchangeable.  
  
She doesn’t answer him. Her face says it all. Immediately, his throat burns. His eyes water and it becomes hard to swallow. His face crumples in hurt and his voice comes out like gravel.  
  
‘It was bad.’  
  
He hangs his head and follows a vein of marble on the countertop with his eyes. He follows a second into a small puddle of alcohol. He feels embarrassed, like a younger version of himself going off the rails without warning.  
  
‘I _berated_ them,’ he whispers. ‘I showed them the photo album I made. I told them private things about our life together. I told them how much I loved him,’ he says. ‘But they wouldn’t say anything. Just like they’ve been doing to him, they managed to say nothing. It was silence or meaningless grunts and murmurs, like I wasn’t even there,’ he says, getting frustrated in remembrance. ‘It made me angry, so I criticised them. Seunghyun’s father shouted at me.’  
  
Dami sighs and it’s layered.  
  
‘Did you apologize?’  
  
‘For what?’ Jiyong snaps. ‘Telling the truth?’  
  
She frowns and it’s not exactly sympathetic. Jiyong is piqued. She doesn’t know what it’s been like at home or how difficult it really is sometimes. Seunghyun is doing his best now that he’s pretending he doesn’t care and can switch his disappointment off, but he _does_ care. The whole situation with Seunghyun’s parents has invaded their lives in insidious ways but beyond that--- beyond selfishness for wanting their peaceful life back, he wants Seunghyun to be happy because that’s what he fucking deserves. So, apologize for what? Telling these people to wake the fuck up?  
  
He’s surprised by his own animosity. Since last night, he has flip-flopped between anger and shame. Dami’s immediate disappointment in him has knocked him back into anger and defiance.  
  
‘I said what any parent should want to hear. That Seunghyun is safe with me. That he’s loved. That I’ll be there for the family. The whole speech. What’s wrong with that? I’m an asshole?’  
  
Dami glances at the bottle of whiskey so quick, Jiyong almost misses it.  
  
‘Because I’m drunk, I’m not _right?’_  
  
‘Did you tell them about the wedding?’  
  
‘Yeah. Right as Seunghyun’s father pushed me out the door.’  
  
Dami sighs, a hint of sympathy creeping into her face for the first time. She warned him against going over there and her prediction proved true.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ she says gently. ‘I know you meant well and I admire your bravery and your loyalty, but you can’t fix everything. Some things need time and there’s nothing you can do to speed them along.’  
  
Her words grip him and his face folds again, a single tear falling over his cheek.  
  
‘I _know,_’ he whispers. ‘I just--- I thought I could get through to them. Because I _lov_e him, I thought that would be enough. And it’s not. I thought I could force them to do something. To say something. I thought--- ‘ he trails off.  
  
‘Have you spoken to him?’  
  
‘You mean have I _told_ him? How can I?’ Jiyong asks, pulling the bottle closer to him. ‘Maybe they’ve already done it. Maybe they called him last night and told him everything. That I disrespected them in their own home,’ he grimaces. ‘Or maybe they won’t tell him, because then they would have to have a conversation. They would have to tell him what I was doing there and what we spoke about. So, maybe he’ll never find out.’  
  
‘You aren’t going to talk to him?’  
  
‘And say what? I did something I _knew_ he would forbid me from doing? That I meddled in his family drama and made things worse? I _know_ him. If I tell him what I’ve done, he’ll be angry. Not just a little angry, sleeping in different rooms for the night. He won’t trust me anymore. I’ll have to earn his trust back over weeks and months. And he won’t forget,’ Jiyong says. ‘Or disappointment. That’s what it will be. He’ll be disappointed in me, just like he is everyone else in his life.’  
  
‘If the stakes were that high, why did you go over there at all? Why _do_ this?’  
  
‘Because I _had_ to,’ Jiyong throws back. ‘It’s impossible to be in the house together, watching his misery and disappointment compound like a silent observer who can’t change anything. I had to try. Sometimes it’s easier to swallow a bitter pill that comes from a stranger, right? I don’t know. I really thought that would work with them. I don’t know why. I thought I could fix it, but I just fucked it up.’  
  
He takes another swig of whiskey and grimaces at the taste.  
  
Seunghyun has always been a wine drinker. He would only drink whiskey around certain people who expected it. Certain crowds. Jiyong wonders when Seunghyun bought this bottle or who gave it to him. It must have been a gift. He pictures Seunghyun’s smiling face, gratefully accepting the bottle before telling the giver he doesn’t drink whiskey because it tastes like shit. Their old lives in Seoul seem so remote now.  
  
‘Seunghyun has been alright recently,’ Jiyong says quietly. ‘He told me he had no choice but to accept things as they are. He said he wouldn’t let his rift with parents affect his life and happiness anymore and he’s been putting on a good show,’ Jiyong says confidently. ‘But I know he’s hurting underneath and all this resolution means is that he won’t be honest with me about how he feels anymore.’  
  
Jiyong takes another swig and coughs, hanging his head.  
  
‘I just want to marry him,’ he mutters. ‘I want him to feel loved and seen. A good life. Yadda yadda.’  
  
Dami gently pulls the bottle out of his hand and slides it to the other side of her, out of his reach. He watches it go with bleary eyes and slow fingers. Dami closes her hand around his and squeezes gently.  
  
‘Jiyong, you can’t go through with a wedding like this.’  
  
Her words pass over him like a cold but fleeting breeze.  
  
‘Why not?’  
  
‘Because it’s _selfish.’_  
  
Jiyong sighs, feeling lost.  
  
‘It’s selfish to marry him?’  
  
‘Like this?’ She asks. ‘It might be. Put yourself in his shoes. Imagine how he’ll feel having a wedding sprung on him, with our family there to support you, when he only has his sister. His parents not being there would crush him. That disappointment would outweigh the happiness of you surprising him with a grand gesture right now. It doesn’t matter that you have good intentions or a hundred reasons for wanting to go through with it.’  
  
Jiyong pulls his hand from Dami’s grip and wipes his eyes. They don’t clear.  
  
‘This ceremony?’ Dami continues gently. ‘I think it’s mostly for you, not him. You want to take things to the next level and feel settled. You want to feel legitimate. I understand. But you can’t have a wedding without his parents there. You can’t.’  
  
Jiyong lets his head drop to the counter, hearing Dami’s words but not feeling them.  
  
‘What if they never accept it? We’ll just never get married?’  
  
‘Give them _time_,’ she says. ‘It’s too soon. You have to give them a chance to come around. You have to give Seunghyun time to reconcile with them and to work through this. He deserves to have them there when he marries you. I know he wants that.’  
  
Jiyong sniffs, his head feeling like a concrete block. He tries to lift it but it doesn’t move. His eyelids feel heavy. He wants to say something but the words disintegrate in his mouth and he is struck dumb. It’s as though his drunkenness held off the worst of its power until this moment. Or perhaps he is leaning into it to avoid this conversation and its implications.  
  
‘I want to go home.’  
  
‘You can wait until you sober up. I’m not driving you all the way to Inje.’  
  
Jiyong closes his eyes and his next words trail off.  
  
‘Leave me alone then.’  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  


He finally makes it home the next morning. It takes an hour longer than normal because he pulls over twice to pace on the side of the road, working through his dizziness and stomach pains. He feels nauseous. When Dami left, he drank himself unconscious. Having a dead sleep for 12 hours didn’t improve his situation. His hangover is immense. Every twenty minutes in the car he began to feel clammy and he would sweat, bile rising in his throat.  
  
When he finally does make it home, he staggers upstairs, tripping on his way into the ensuite. He gets carpet burn on his elbows. He feels monumentally bad, like a teenager who has just discovered binge drinking. He locks the bathroom door behind him and crawls into a cold shower. He sits on the tiles. Water beats against his face and head for thirty minutes, and he hears the frustrating grunts and monosyllables of Seunghyun’s mother rattling around inside his head.  
  
What was the face she pulled when he hurriedly mentioned a wedding? Shock and dismay or just regular shock? He would give half his fortune for a translator to interpret all her grimaces and sighs.  
  
Out of the shower, Jiyong looks at his naked form in the mirror. He is pale with deep rings below his eyes. He hasn’t shaved and he looks ghoulish. Is this what she saw when he flipped the pages of that photo album? Her son chained to an unkempt, impertinent drunk? Where he saw a warming cute photograph of them bundled up together in Paris, maybe she saw a kidnapper and a victim of Stockholm syndrome. Maybe his expressions of love came off as predatory.  
  
Fighting his ongoing nausea, he slowly puts his pyjamas on, determined to go to bed until he feels like a human being. But, bending for his pants makes the room spin violently and he ends up sitting on the closed lit of the toilet with his head between his knees. He has thrown up twice today and still feels ill.  
  
He shivers and his hearing dulls, like he is swimming in a fishbowl. He can’t drink whiskey ever again. He can’t drink this much ever _ever_ again. If he doesn’t die this time, he will the next time. He clenches his fists and breathes slowly. _I’m too old for this.  
_  
He is so dazed and miserable he doesn’t notice or flinch when Seunghyun appears in the doorway. So close to death, he doesn’t jump when touched.  
  
‘Woah,’ Seunghyun sounds concerned. ‘Are you alright?’  
  
Jiyong wants to lift his head but can’t. It’s almost comfortable hunched over. The urge to throw up is less intense when he is folded in half. He doesn’t trust himself to sit back up without falling off the toilet, swept off the seat by vertigo.  
  
‘I don’t feel well. _I’m fine.’_  
  
Seunghyun lifts Jiyong’s head for him, physically pulling him up by the hair in a way that doesn’t hurt him. Jiyong sways and grimaces and pouts at the pity and worry on Seunghyun’s face. If he only knew what adolescent fuck-up preceded _this_ mistake.  
  
‘What’s wrong?’ Seunghyun asks, feeling his forehead. ‘Are you sick? You’re all clammy and pale.’  
  
Jiyong brushes his hand away and whispers his answer.  
  
‘I’m hungover, alright? Like--- _bad._’  
  
‘Have you thrown up?’  
  
‘Twice this-morning. It didn’t help.’  
  
Seunghyun frowns. They’ve both been heavy drinkers in their time and know damn well that a good vomit can do wonders.  
  
‘What were you drinking?’  
  
‘Whiskey.’  
  
_‘What?’_ Seunghyun almost laughs. ‘You never drink Whiskey. How much did you have? It must have been a lot to end up like this.’  
  
Jiyong shrugs mutedly.  
  
Seunghyun sighs as if belaboured but Jiyong can feel amusement coming off him in waves. He’s enjoying this unexpected situation.  
  
‘Had a big night, huh? I hope it was worth it. Did you have fun at least?’  
  
Jiyong grimaces in confusion, eyebrows scrunched, before realising the obvious assumption Seunghyun has made--- that he was out with friends and got shitfaced. Why wouldn’t he? Life is great, right? That’s more likely than him drinking alone in an empty apartment because he attacked Seunghyun’s parents with a photo album and good intentions.  
  
‘Loads of fun,’ he frowns in response.  
  
Seunghyun mistakes his frown for a fresh wave of nausea and he gently tugs at his bicep.  
  
‘Let’s get you into bed then.’  
  
Jiyong sighs quietly in gratitude when his back hits the mattress and the cool pillow folds around his neck. He loves their bed. It’s so fucking comfortable. The twenty something inches of soft padding on top tries to counterbalance his nausea. This bed is so loyal.  
  
Moments later, he has a cold washer on his forehead, a bottle of water on the bedside table, and a bucket beside the bed. It happens without him really being aware of it. As if this happens every day.  
  
‘I’m begging you to try and make it to the toilet if you have to throw up,’ Seunghyun says seriously. ‘This bucket is for emergencies _only.’  
_  
Jiyong gives the okay symbol with his fingers.  
  
‘I’ll get you some dry toast.’  
  
Jiyong is overwhelmed by the easiness of their routine sometimes, the way they slide into these roles when the other needs something. He loves Seunghyun’s tenderness despite his current pain being self-inflicted. Jiyong catches Seunghyun’s fingers before he leaves and squeezes them. He feels so sorry for what he’s done but in this moment, he is mostly feeling sorry for himself and grateful that Seunghyun is being kind.  
  
_‘I love you.’  
_  
Seunghyun smiles, amused.  
  
‘It’s just toast.’

  
  
  


* * *

Jiyong doesn’t start to feel better until it’s almost midnight. He has dozed on and off through the day. He only threw up once more and he made it to the toilet, to Seunghyun’s gratitude. Now, Seunghyun is asleep beside him in the dark and Jiyong is watching him like a parent watching the face of a sleeping newborn. Like this is something precious and fleeting. And maybe it is. Jiyong will have to tell him soon enough. Seunghyun deserves to know that his fiancé accosted his parents and made his situation worse. That will change things, for a while at least.  
  
He tries to imagine how he would feel if their roles were reversed but he can only imagine a sense of pride and thankfulness at the idea of Seunghyun going to bat for him. It’s an impossible comparison though. Seunghyun’s relationship with his parents has always been fraught and layered. Their genuine love for each other always acted out in careful ways. Their relationships with each other are like an infinite game of chess and Jiyong, impatient with the speed of the game, just kicked the board onto the ground.  
  
Wide awake after a day of sleeping, he sneaks out of bed and takes his laptop downstairs. He tries to take his mind off everything. He checks emails and listens to a few songs. He reads the news. Soon, his attention drifts and he finds himself looking at the invoices of things he has already purchased for their faux wedding ceremony. The lights, the flowers and plants, a rushed custom-made wedding arch. He drafts a few emails cancelling the orders, saying he’ll still pay for them but won’t need them delivered anymore.  
  
He doesn’t send them.  
  
Cancelling the orders feels like cancelling the whole thing. Not just this month but forever. If they don’t get married now, will they ever? If they don’t have a ceremony now, it may never happen. It has only been a week but making plans and believing in their fruition has been nice. Having something to look forward to and something to surprise Seunghyun with has invigorated him. It has made him more thankful for what he has and the life they’ve built together. He even started to write his vows. Cancelling it all now and shutting a door that is filled to bursting will hollow him out.  
  
He tells himself, _one more day_. Let me live in the fantasy for one more day.  
  
Getting a glass of water from the kitchen, he slowly traces the steps they would take in his fantasy wedding; an imagined path of lights on the ground to guide their way. In his mind’s eye, it’s simple but beautiful. Bypassing a ballroom and manicured tables and centrepieces for something small and intimate. With the room otherwise dark, a simple lit path through their home out to a similarly lit patio would be so nice. He wants Seunghyun to see it and feel it too. Throw in some greenery for the ambience and he will have thrown together a minimalist ceremony that punches above its weight.  
  
For two people with expensive taste, their preferences within their relationship have always been more lowkey. Perhaps at the beginning it was out of necessity, but familiarity breeds sense and they long ago reached a point of knowing simplicity has its merits. They don’t need much. They have had to keep their relationship contained for so long, it’s hard for him to imagine having an enormous wedding with hundreds of guests. Even in the distant future when they pluck up the courage to tell more people, he would lean toward something intimate and warm. Drinks, speeches and laughter. He wants to feel a sense of family reunited. If he and Seunghyun are allowed to officially marry one day, they won’t be starting a new life together, they will be returning to something. Re-joining a world they were cast out of the second they fell in love.  
  
His imagined ceremony is small by design. Family only. A few lights in the darkness. A quiet way of celebrating that_ somebody_ finally sees them as they are.  
  
  
  
* * *

  
  


For the next few days, Jiyong resolutely ignores the impending deadline to cancel his orders. They are all set to be delivered in six days, the ceremony itself supposed to take place in eight. He toys with the idea of having them delivered anyway and putting them into storage. If he physically possesses the decorations for a commitment ceremony, doesn’t that make it more likely to occur one day? Maybe he can find a place for them in the house that Seunghyun won’t question. The flowers and real plants he can donate or send to Mrs Lee, but the rest of it? The lights and other decorations? Can’t he keep those? Maybe he can keep a few plants and flowers. For a few days, he could look at them and think about what might have been.  
  
At the same time, he waits for an opening with Seunghyun. He waits for the perfect time to tell him what he’s done. Every time the phone rings, his heart pounds and he holds his breath in case it’s Seunghyun’s parents telling him everything. Every day, the secret becomes more stressful to keep but he doesn’t say anything. It never feels right and he’s afraid of disappointing him.  
  
One night, when Jiyong is waiting for him in bed, Seunghyun walks out of the ensuite in his pyjamas singing a song that’s been playing on the radio 24/7. He seems so unburdened and airy, how is Jiyong meant to ruin that on purpose by telling the truth? Seunghyun catches him watching and bows after his performance, unembarrassed.  
  
‘I’m practising for my audition,’ he jokes. ‘Korea’s got talent.’  
  
‘Oh, babe. That show ended ten years ago.’  
  
‘Shit. I guess I missed it.’  
  
Jiyong laughs and pats the bed beside him and Seunghyun crawls in with an easy smile. They kiss each other goodnight and Jiyong is reminded that when the world is just the two of them alone, life is incredibly warm and easy.  
  
  
* * *

Seunghyun keeps working through the days. He goes to the gallery in town for a few hours and prepares for the Seoul exhibition at home. He is on the phone or on his laptop for hours each afternoon. Jiyong gets used to not seeing him much or hearing little during the day but the muffled sound of his voice coming through the study walls.  
  
Because of the settling silence, Seunghyun’s laughter one afternoon draws Jiyong’s attention. It’s unexpected. Popping his head around the corner, he finds Seunghyun in the lounge room laughing at something on his phone. So absorbed in the video, Seunghyun doesn’t notice him watching.  
  
Seunghyun’s laughter is genuine. It’s real, not affected. It’s the same goofy laugh that Jiyong fell in love with years ago. Something totally unselfconscious and natural. Deep and childlike at the same time. It’s nice to see him smile and be happy but Jiyong can’t hear the video, only bits and pieces.  
  
When the work phone in the study rings, Seunghyun leaves his cell phone behind. He drops it on the couch cushion and runs to answer his other call. When the coast is clear, Jiyong picks Seunghyun’s phone up. He isn’t trying to snoop, he’s just curious and he looks without really thinking about it. They don’t hide things from each other. He knows the passcode to Seunghyun’s phone and vice versa.  
  
So, Jiyong is surprised to find himself looking at a conversation between Seunghyun and his sister in a chat app. It’s wrong to look but he scrolls up a few times and sees a sparse but poignant conversation between them. He can’t read all of it, but it’s obviously about the situation with their parents. She is offering him some encouragement and hope that things will work themselves out. She has sent photos of them together as a family and of Seunghyun posing with his parents aged 7 or so. They are nice reminiscences.  
  
Scrolling back down, Jiyong presses play on the most recent video and the audio is a repeat of what he heard minutes earlier. It’s a video of Seunghyun and his sister as children. They’re at a beach somewhere and his mother is laughing behind the camera at their childish antics. Sand is kicked around, arms are whacked, names are called. She sporadically asks for calm.  
  
Then, the scene pans to the right. Seunghyun’s father appears on screen and he is smiling and then laughing, his hair tousled and free. Seunghyun’s parents joke with one another and his father imitates Seunghyun’s childish rant and pose. It’s jarring. Moments later, Seunghyun dives into his father like a lion lunging at its prey but he is caught and turned upside down, begging for mercy. The whole family laughs and the camera shakes.  
  
Jiyong sees Seunghyun’s father in a new light. For the first time, he appears a warm and engaging human being. Someone flesh and blood, not a man carefully built and emotionally restrained by the military. In the video, he is smiling and laughing and obviously, outwardly full of love for his children.  
  
Jiyong closes the video and positions the phone back where he found it. He feels terrible for looking, like he has seen Seunghyun’s parents in a state of vulnerability. As if they were naked, he has seen a side of them not available to him before. It’s hard to reconcile their public personas with who they appear to be in the video, who they _must_ be when they are alone. In public and around strangers, they have always been stoic and reserved. Composed maybe. Always aware of themselves.  
  
Seunghyun has loved his parents so deeply in his life, of course they have _loved_ him and cared for him and _laughed_ with him. Jiyong has just never seen it in abundance or seen the same kind of affectionate displays his own parents have shown. Jiyong’s anger and heartbreak over Seunghyun’s current situation has allowed him to forget that despite their absolute bullshit after his coming out, they are still Seunghyun’s parents and Seunghyun _loves_ them. Despite everything, despite making a choice to bar them from important moments in his life, Seunghyun was just standing in this spot, laughing and reminiscing over a video of them as a family.  
  
Jiyong sighs and anxiety ripples through his gut. Guilt wraps around him like a shroud.  
  
He shouldn’t have gone over there last week. He should never have spoken to Seunghyun’s parents like that. He should have waited and planned things more carefully. He should have asked Seunghyun permission or they should have gone together and pled their case as a team. Seunghyun loves his parents and he went behind his back to criticise them. Even if he meant everything he said to them, that doesn’t make it right or the right timing.  
  
What Seunghyun is going through is complicated and more difficult than a photo album can tidily fix. He knew that before but he was frustrated and _exhausted_ from the emotional minefield Seunghyun’s parents had created. He let his anger get the best of him. He should have held off. He’s supposed to be Seunghyun’s support network, not his saviour. How was he supposed to fix this on his own? In one day? A handful of photos and some scathing indictments was going to piece together Seunghyun’s broken family? There’s so much he doesn’t understand, even now.  
  
He has to tell Seunghyun what he’s done before he finds out from somebody else. Knowing that, Jiyong feels nauseous because he realizes he has to pre-empt the damage honesty will do. He has to apologize to Seunghyun’s parents because Seunghyun will expect him to. Even if he accosted them for the right reasons and never meant to lose his cool, Seunghyun will take it harder if he hasn’t apologized or taken responsibility.  
  
The creak of the study door opening travels up the hallway and Jiyong panics. He turns tail and walks out of the lounge-room, not stopping until he’s out the back door and almost 50 metres from the house. He has to call them. He has to do it _right now_ before it’s too late or before he changes his mind. He feels a sudden rush of shame and adrenaline and it’s the only possible combination that can force him to swallow his pride and apologize so he knows this is it. He has to call right now and wing it or he’ll never do it. His resolve will weaken.  
  
So, he thinks about that video and Seunghyun’s face as he was watching it; the sound of his genuine laughter and unburdened expression. That was the face of a man who _loves_ his family, despite everything they have done to him. Jiyong fists his phone out of his pocket and thinks about how he can’t be the reason Seunghyun’s relationship with them becomes even more strained. How could he live with himself?  
  
He calls before he has prepared a single line or thought.  
  
Mercifully or regretfully, he doesn’t know, the phone rings out and the voicemail kicks in. He hears the clipped tone of Seunghyun’s mother asking him to leave a message and number. When the line beeps, he just opens his mouth and garbage comes out. Words pour out of him of their own accord and he barely stops for air because how long is a voicemail allowed to be?  
  
‘Hi. It’s uh--- Kwon Jiyong,’ he muddles through. ‘I know you probably don’t want to hear from me and I should talk to you in person but if I don’t say this now I don’t think I’ll have the courage to do it later,’ he says, breathless. ‘I wanted to apologize to you both. I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for disturbing you at home that night. I shouldn’t have interfered. I had good intentions, if that makes a difference. I love your son more than anything and I just wanted you to know that he’s loved and happy and that he misses you, but I shouldn’t have--’ he hesitates, struggling with this half-truth because he still believes in _what_ he said to them. ‘I shouldn’t have done what I did. I overstepped and I’m sorry for that.’  
  
For a moment, he lets himself take a breath. Just long enough to look down at his bare feet in the snow. They are turning pink. He can hardly feel them. From where he is standing, only part of their house is visible through the trees and above the greenhouse. What would Seunghyun think if he saw him standing out here like this?  
  
What Jiyong says next comes out on autopilot, toneless suddenly. His voice comes out rougher like the words are having to crawl their way out and in some deep part of him, every word hurts in its own way. Each word comes with the swing of a metaphorical hammer pounding at his heart and ribs.  
  
‘I want you to know that I’m cancelling the wedding ceremony. The commitment ceremony, I mean. I really hope Seunghyun and I can experience that one day but you should be there when we do. So we’ll wait,’ he says, defeated. ‘Things take time. I understand. Seunghyun loves you both so much, more than either of you can understand. He deserves to have you at his wedding. I shouldn’t take that away from him because---’ Jiyong wonders what putdown will most resonate with them. ‘Because I’m _impertinent_,’ he says, and again more emphatically but also deadened at the same time, ‘so I’m _sorry_. I hope you can forgive me for the things I said that were unkind. I love your son. I want to take care of him. I wanted you to know that but I should have left it alone.’ He shrugs aimlessly in the snow-covered woods, completely alone, like he’s asking the wind what more he can say. ‘I hope you’ll still call on me if you ever need anything. Even if you hate me, I want you to know I’ll always be here for---’  
  
The line beeps again signalling the end of the message and Jiyong closes his eyes and bites his lip. He bites back tears and sniffs, staring at his feet in the snow again. He allows the message to go through. He doesn’t re-record it. It isn’t a good message but at least it’s real. It will be worse if it’s rehearsed. They’ll think it was a coerced apology rather than something real.  
  
It won’t make a difference. At least now when he tells Seunghyun he berated his parents, he can pretend to have a conscience. He doesn’t have to tell him that he meant everything he said, that his regret is only for the circumstances.  
  
  
*  
  
  
It takes almost half an hour to get the feeling back in his feet and he avoids Seunghyun for all of it. He wallows. Saying the wedding is cancelled makes it real. He can’t push it back any longer or live in the fantasy that everything will come together at the last minute because it’s over. It’s done. Can’t happen any longer. If one or two silent tears fall over his cheeks, that’s his own business.  
  
Even knowing for days that it was as good as cancelled, the death blow still hurts. It hurts more because Seunghyun doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what they almost had or the fantasy walk throughs Jiyong has made in his head. He won’t see the lights or be surprised or cry his eyes out when he hears their vows because he _would_ cry. If Jiyong knows anything it’s that when they do get married, Seunghyun will cry himself blind.  
  
He pulls his laptop out and opens those drafted emails, hovering over the send button. Cancel the flowers. Cancel the arch. Cancel it all. But he still can’t hit _send_ and his inability to do that is the tipping point. He slams his laptop shut and punches the mattress in anger like a child.  
  
  
*  
  
  
When he has regained his composure, he knocks on the study door downstairs and opens it a little. There are papers strewn all over the place. It is a thoroughly used office space. Seunghyun turns around with a smile on his face and Jiyong smiles back unconsciously.  
  
‘Hey. What’s up?’  
  
‘Will you have dinner with me tonight?’ Jiyong asks.  
  
Seunghyun squints, confused.  
  
‘We have dinner together almost every night.’  
  
‘I know. I mean like--- a _dinner_ dinner. If I cook something for us? And lay it out nice. _You know.’_  
  
‘Like a date night?’  
  
Jiyong laughs shortly, because it’s not so much a date night as trying to create a nice environment for him to tell Seunghyun something that will upset him but maybe they can have a date night before Seunghyun makes him sleep in the guest room for three weeks.  
  
‘Yeah, sure. Like a date night.’  
  
‘Okay,’ Seunghyun smiles. ‘Sounds good.’  
  
  
*  
  
  
So, Jiyong finds himself working out his copious frustrations and anxieties by pounding the shit out of some dough so he can make a fucking focaccia to go with the store bought pasta they have in the cupboard. They actually have a pasta maker somewhere but neither of them have ever touched it and Jiyong won’t be the first. Sprinkling some olives and rosemary into some dough and walking away for an hour is as good it gets. That and making the sauce, which is basically a handful of tomatoes and some herbs. It’s not Michelin quality or Michelin complicated but when Seunghyun finally stops working and approaches the dinner table hours later, Jiyong stops short. He’d be forgiven for thinking they were in a nice restaurant because Seunghyun has changed his clothes for dinner. He isn’t wearing formal wear but he put on a nice shirt and brushed his hair and he looks really nice and mellow and the top three buttons are open and--  
  
‘Oh wow, you look good.’  
  
Seunghyun approaches him with a smile and brushes his cheek, wiping off a touch of flour.  
  
‘So do you. This is a good look.’  
  
‘Homemaker covered in flour? Don’t get too attached.’  
  
Seunghyun kisses him and Jiyong curses all the God’s for creating this nice moment just so he can shit all over it with his truth telling. It’s so easy to see how couples lie and lie and lie, and never stop lying because would it be so bad not to tell him? To just enjoy this without spoiling it?  
  
Seunghyun being overdressed for dinner means after Jiyong sets the table and lays the food out, he has to run upstairs and change. For good measure, he puts the tiniest bit of cologne at his neck. One Seunghyun bought him months earlier. Maybe it will help cultivate a good mood subconsciously.  
  
Seunghyun looks at him appraisingly when he returns downstairs and sits down at the table. Jiyong laughs. He feels incredibly old and domestic, the two of them dressing up to eat pasta in the dining room, impressed by each other’s ability to put on a clean shirt.  
  
The dinner itself goes well though. Seunghyun genuinely likes the focaccia and eats everything on his plate and they just small talk the way they always do when eating dinner without the TV on. Seunghyun catches him up on his work and Jiyong marvels at the strange disconnect between their lives now and their lives of ten years ago. It feels like they have always been these people, that stardom and living out of a suitcase while performing in front of millions happened to other people altogether. This is a parallel universe where Seunghyun has always been an art curator and he himself has always been----  
  
Jiyong’s gaze falters for a moment and Seunghyun catches it. He leans back in his chair and with a simple knowing expression says, ‘you’re going back to work?’  
  
Jiyong is so surprised, his head moves back.  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘I talked to Dami.’  
  
Jiyong rolls his eyes and crumples the napkin in his lap onto the table.  
  
‘She told you what we talked about?’  
  
His heart pounds in his chest knowing what else they talked about that day. If she let slip about him going back to work, what else did she leak? Wasn’t that entire conversation supposed to be private?  
  
‘She didn’t tell me anything on purpose, she just said something obvious,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘I was talking to her about work and traveling to Seoul and she said, ‘_oh, and uhh—what if Jiyong goes back to work soon? How do you think you’ll manage?’ _he says, doing her voice but failing miserably. ‘It seemed pretty obvious that she knew something I didn’t.’  
  
Seunghyun isn’t saying it as a remonstrance or chastising him for telling somebody else first. He’s just inviting the conversation.  
  
‘I don’t know,’ Jiyong answers honestly. ‘It’s something I’m thinking about, but it’s complicated so I don’t have any plans yet, that’s why I haven’t said anything to you.’  
  
‘Okay.’  
  
‘Okay?’  
  
Seunghyun shrugs, like he doesn’t need more information because he has it all already. It’s weirdly smug and humble at the same time. Jiyong feels the need to explain himself anyway. They should be on the same page about staying in Inje vs going back to Seoul.  
  
‘We’ve been here for almost a year,’ Jiyong says. ‘And it’s been good for me here, the way things are, but I can’t do _nothing_ for the rest of my life. I need something to work on. Seeing you so passionate again has been amazing. I love you seeing you happy and thriving at work, juggling jobs, keeping yourself busy. I miss feeling that myself.’  
  
‘So, you think you’ll resurrect G-Dragon?’  
  
‘I don’t know. I was in a bad place before we came here,’ Jiyong says honestly. ‘I know becoming G-Dragon again means inviting all that shit back into my life and I don’t want to do that but--- I don’t know how to avoid it either, so I just don’t know anything yet. I don’t know how to have the good without the bad.’

  
‘It’s hard.’  
  
They look into each other’s eyes and there is perfect understanding. They both suffered at the hands of the media and the masses. Seunghyun so nearly lost his life. Here, for the first time Jiyong can see on Seunghyun’s face that he knows how close he came to that too. That he hadn’t hidden his lowest moments as well as he imagined.  
  
There were so many times over their long career that he thought about ending things but the night Seunghyun proposed to him, Jiyong had never been closer to giving up. Sitting in the dark on the floor of his bedroom reading another malicious article and the millionth comment telling him to end his life over a misunderstanding, he knew one more blow would kill him. Seunghyun proposing and agreeing to retire and move away saved his life. Maybe it saved both of their lives.  
  
Seunghyun reaches a hand across the table and intertwines their fingers.  
  
‘We’ll figure it out. You have too much talent to retire at 35. I know that. If you’re ready to work again, we’ll make it happen safely. What are we if we put our two heads together?’  
  
‘Two idiots?’  
  
‘No. A fucking _genius,’_ Seunghyun implores. ‘We can make a plan. Okay?’  
  
Jiyong laughs at Seunghyun’s sudden outburst but nods, grateful for this sweet idiot man always encouraging him. He pushes the half-drunk wine bottle closer to Seunghyun and tells him to drink up.  
  
The next part of dinner will be easier if Seunghyun is drunk.  
  
  
*  
  
  
Over a few more glasses of wine, Jiyong can unwind a little and forget the purpose of this dinner. Seunghyun becomes more vocal the more he drinks and Jiyong matches him to an extent. They are always egging each other on. Seunghyun shows Jiyong an email from some _very important person_ at the national museum that compliments him on his work and taste and Seunghyun slaps his chest, repeating the kind words.  
  
‘I’m an unusual but exceptional talent,’ he says. _‘Exceptional,_’ he enunciates slowly.  
  
_‘Unusual,’_ Jiyong emphasises.  
  
Seunghyun scoffs and stands, turning the stereo on suddenly. He plays a song through his phone and Jiyong laughs and grimaces as 50 Cent’s _‘Candy Shop’_ starts playing. Seunghyun turns with a hand outstretched.  
  
‘Come on. Let’s dance. It’s our song.’  
  
‘This is _not _our song!’  
  
‘Yes, it is! This was playing when we went back inside after our first kiss. And I think it was playing the first time I stuck my hand down your pants, so I don’t know how this isn’t our song. This is definitely it. We used to fool around with this playing in the background.’  
  
‘That makes it our _song?_’ Jiyong yells, trying to be heard over the music. ‘Is this going to play at our wedding?’  
  
‘Oh, _fuck yes_!’ Seunghyun answers drunk. He withdraws his hand and shrugs, yelling, ‘I just thought we could celebrate. Celebrate my success. Celebrate you going back to work! It’s all looking good! But I’ll dance on my own if I have to---'  
  
And he does. Seunghyun dances with unselfconscious abandon and a frenetic energy he’s barely had since moving to Inje. In Seoul, Seunghyun would have these outbursts of mad energy at unexpected moments. He would scream and yell and laugh and dance and there was never any warning. Inje has evened him out.  
  
Watching him dance like a maniac makes Jiyong smile though. That absurd energy was so much apart of Seunghyun for most of his life, it is nice to see it’s still there, that even if he has changed in some ways, these other parts of him are always there.  
  
Seunghyun dances the way he did when they were younger. Jiyong remembers them dancing together to this song like absolute losers in Seunghyun’s small bedroom in the dorms. The others thought they had lost their minds but it was harmless fun and Seunghyun was the one person never afraid to be an embarrassment with him in the late hours.  
  
Reluctantly Jiyong gets up and joins Seunghyun who grabs him by the wrists and forces him to move. He can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it and how little time has changed them because he just let’s go. He dances with Seunghyun and they shout the lyrics together and they act like drunk fucking morons, laughing the whole way through. It’s like going back in time.  
  
  
*  
  
  
Jiyong is definitely drunk when it’s all over and he tries to clean up. Seunghyun is equally drunk—not shitfaced, but more than buzzed. Seunghyun is supremely unhelpful. He drops one plate, shattering it, and dumps the others on the counter. Then, he pulls an apron out of the pantry and puts it on Jiyong from behind, fumbling with the ties.  
  
Jiyong lets him do it because they’re drunk enough that everything is at least mildly funny. He probably washes two dishes and one wine glass to varying degrees of success before Seunghyun’s nose nestles behind his ear, their bodies pressed together from behind.  
  
‘Thank-you for dinner.’  
  
‘You’re welcome.’  
  
‘I didn’t say thank-you.’  
  
Jiyong laughs, his hands in the sink, soap bubbles overflowing.  
  
‘You literally just said it. You’re so drunk. You need to go to bed.’  
  
‘No—‘ Seunghyun’s breath is warm behind Jiyong’s ear. It travels down his neck. ‘I mean--- _thank-you_ thank-you. I meant to _thank_ you.’  
  
Jiyong has no idea what Seunghyun is saying until hands ferret beneath the apron and yank his pants down to his knees. With his hands still in the sink, Jiyong is slow to react. He just freezes in surprise and shakes his head like that will clear the wine fog.  
  
And then--- drunk as he is, Seunghyun _thanks_ him. Wrapped around him from behind, Seunghyun gives him a drunken hand-job at the sink and looking down, all Jiyong can see is the apron moving near his crotch and the plastic sound it makes every time Seunghyun’s knuckles hit it from behind.  
  
Maybe it’s the drunkenness or how warm Seunghyun feels pressed against his back or how strange it is to be jerked off from behind while standing at a sink doing dishes, but it feels pretty fucking good and it doesn’t take half as long as Jiyong would like. Seunghyun is so good at what he does, Jiyong’s knees go weak. He clutches at the tap and then the sink and then the wet counter before giving up and holding onto Seunghyun’s arm around his waist.  
  
The plastic apron tenting and crumpling and creasing the whole time is absurd but behind that is the slick sound of Seunghyun’s hand working his cock and his breath in his ear and on the back of his neck and the noises Seunghyun is making are so appreciative, like little appraisals and encouragements. It feels nice.  
  
Jiyong drops his head back onto Seunghyun’s shoulder and rocks his hips in time with Seunghyun’s hand and it barely takes three minutes altogether before Jiyong’s knees are absolutely crumpling and he cums with a strangled groan. It’s a mess trifecta: Seunghyun’s hand, the inside of the apron _and_ the kitchen floor, but--- hell. It felt good.  
  
It is only twenty minutes later when they are in bed that Jiyong remembers Seunghyun’s parents and telling him the truth about going to see them. He was meant to tell him--- instead, he gratefully accepted a hand job and forgot all about it.  
  
  
* * *

The next morning, Jiyong barely catches Seunghyun before he is out the door on his way to the gallery in town. Jiyong has a slight hangover and Seunghyun looks slightly worse for wear too so maybe now isn’t the best time but it _has_ to happen today.  
  
‘I have to talk to you about something when you come home later.’  
  
‘About what?’  
  
‘Just come and find me later, okay?’  
  
‘Is it serious?’ Seunghyun says in jest.  
  
‘Seunghyun, _go to work._ I’ll talk to you later. Don’t let me forget.’  
  
_Don’t let me back out._  
  
  
*  
  
  
Jiyong takes a long shower and takes even longer to eat a piece of toast. His stomach is a little unsettled because of the drinking and his nerves on top of that. The choices he made last night will surely come back to bite him in the ass tonight. Seunghyun will wonder why he didn’t tell him sooner. Why he let them do _that_ last night instead of telling him the truth. He feels a bit gross actually, like he used him or--- like they were intimate under false pretences.  
  
He isn’t sure what to say when the time comes. He supposes he’ll opt for the usual _winging it_ option that never ceases to backfire.  
  
_Hey, remember when I told you I was staying behind in Seoul to have a meeting? That was a lie. I actually went to your parent’s house without your permission and showed your mother pictures of us kissing and then yelled at them for treating you like garbage, but it’s because I love you, right? And it’s the thought that counts. Your dad shouted at me and kicked me out but I think it could have gone worse.  
_  
Jiyong grimaces and slumps on the couch.  
  
Maybe it won’t be so bad. Seunghyun himself said he was basically ignoring his family until they acknowledge him first. They’re practically locked in a stalemate. Won’t he appreciate the effort to break it?  
  
Jiyong is so steeped in anxiety and mulling through all the potential outcomes in his brain that when his phone rings beside him, he answers it without looking at the number.  
  
‘Hello?’  
_  
‘Jiyong.’_  
  
Not a question but a statement, an authoritative declaration that makes Jiyong stand bolt upright in a quarter of a second flat. He sucks in a sharp gasp of air. It can’t actually be---  
  
‘You know who this is?’  
  
‘Uhh--- yes sir. Yes, _I do._ Hello, sir. I uhh--- If this is about the message that I left on the answering machine---’  
  
His words come out in pieces, like a fucking infant. He is so shocked, he can’t pull himself together. Seunghyun’s father has never called this number in his life and after his initial fear of being torn a new asshole by this man, something completely new and much worse enters Jiyong’s brain. His heart suddenly wrenches in his chest.  
  
‘Wait—_why are you calling me?_ Has something happened? Seunghyun went to work a few hours ago, did something happen to him? Has someone _called_ you?’  
  
The idea that if something happened to Seunghyun, the authorities would contact his parents first makes Jiyong’s stomach twist because why else would this frightening man who threw him out of the house last week be calling his personal cell phone?  
  
‘No. It’s not that. I haven’t spoken to anyone.’  
  
Jiyong loudly sighs in relief, physically clutching his chest. But if not that, then what? He circles back to being abused on the phone for whatever stupid thing he said on the answering machine message, or maybe this is a courtesy call warning him to never contact either of them again. He braces for it. This will make it so much worse when he tells Seunghyun.  
  
_And on top of all that, your father actually called me today and excommunicated me from existence. I’m not allowed to contact your family ever again._  
  
For some stupid reason, he thinks about romcoms gone awry and the scenes where controlling parents offer the undesired newcomer an envelope full of cash to break up with their son or daughter. Jiyong wonders what Seunghyun’s father would offer him to break up a 15-year relationship.  
  
‘You said you cancelled the---’ Seunghyun’s father speaks in that usual deadened state that masks his emotions. He isn’t angry or happy or sad or even neutral. His voice so complexly flat that it isn’t _even_ neutral. It’s undiscovered country. ‘_Ceremony,_’ he finishes, in a tone more difficult to get out.  
  
‘I did,’ Jiyong answers, wondering where this is going. Christ, has somebody found out somehow? Someone who works at the florist or one of the other companies? Did someone say something and it got back to Seunghyun’s father? But that’s impossible, because he used a fake name and the money came out of a discrete bank account. It can’t be anything like that. A stranger didn’t wave an invitation in this man’s face to prompt this phone call.  
  
‘I did cancel it, but I--- I haven’t cancelled the deliveries yet. Um, the flowers and things like that. I have to do that today. I should have done it earlier but I---’ he peters out. What is he going to say? He wanted to enjoy the childlike fantasy of planning a wedding for a few days longer?  
  
There’s a quiet cough on the other end of the line, clearing a throat, and in a voice so deadpan and unreadable, Seunghyun’s father says something insane.  
  
‘If you go ahead, we’ll attend.’  
  
Nothing more, nothing less. It takes real time for Jiyong to process what this terrifying man is saying to him with no emotion in his voice. After what happened the last time they saw each other, how can he be saying what it sounds like he’s saying?  
  
‘I’m sorry?’ Jiyong whispers. ‘Are you saying you would come to our--- to our ceremony?’  
  
‘I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.’  
  
Jiyong almost laughs.  
  
‘I’m really sorry but you might have to so I understand exactly what you’re saying to me. You’re telling me that if I uncancel the ceremony and it goes ahead as it was planned, on the 17th\--- you’ll come? You’ll be here for Seunghyun?’  
  
‘The four of us will attend. My wife and my daughter and her husband.’  
  
_‘What?’_  
  
This leaches out of Jiyong like a wrong violin note. The simplicity of what is being said, that out of the blue this man is saying he’ll come. They’ll all come. Seunghyun’s family will come out here and watch them get married after acting like assholes for three months, like Seunghyun being gay was a fever dream or a nightmare quickly woken up from.  
  
They’ll come?  
  
Jiyong has to ask more questions, he has to understand that this isn’t a fucked-up joke, that this is something real and true emotions led to this change. That if this goes ahead, it’s for the right reasons. That Seunghyun won’t get hurt or get caught in the crossfire of something. He has to understand the reasoning behind this sudden shift, but when he opens his mouth nothing comes out.  
  
He clamps his hand over his mouth and covers the phone with the other because he is suddenly _crying _instead. Without any warning, he is physically sobbing, trying to restrain them before they can fly out of his mouth but he is only marginally successful. He tries but he can’t talk--- he can’t say anything without crying down the telephone in heaving sobs like a child and it shocks him how forcefully he cries.  
  
Seunghyun’s father has to hear him wrestling with it, how can he not? So, he doesn’t linger or explain himself because that isn’t his style. He will always be sealed off. He wants to end this conversation as quickly as possible and by the shortest path.  
  
‘When should we arrive?’ he asks.  
  
Jiyong doesn’t know how he speaks, because when he does it’s with a trembling, hitching voice. But he manages to give _some_ direction. Originally, he wanted them to come at three o’clock so they would know the plans and the routine, so he had time to hide their car and whatever else. So that’s what he tells him. Turn up at three.  
  
‘Three o’clock on the seventeenth,’ Seunghyun’s father says, confirming it. Like it isn’t real until it has passed his lips in an authoritative tone. Like all they needed to get married for the last ten years was Seunghyun’s father saying a particular date and time. ‘Alright.’  
  
Before he can say goodbye, Jiyong quickly cuts in, blurting his words out in an embarrassing way, sounding desperate and needy and unhinged because there are so many things he is supposed to say but he hasn’t got the time to piece his brain back together.  
  
‘Will you stay with us? I mean--- did you want to stay in the house?’  
  
Jiyong hears a faint whisper in the background and recognises the voice of Seunghyun’s mother even if he can’t discern the words. They are making the call together. As Seunghyun’s parents, they are standing together on the other end of this phone to RSVP to a fucking wedding when two weeks ago they couldn’t even acknowledge this relationship.  
  
Jiyong’s face contorts even worse and he presses his hand so tightly over his mouth that it hurts him. Tears stream down his face. This is happening so unexpectedly and so quickly he can’t process it, but in his heart, he understands the weight of it. Whatever the motivation behind this, it has the power to change everything. It overwhelms him.  
  
‘Not at this time,’ Seunghyun’s father responds mutedly to his offer. ‘We’ll see what’s available in town.’  
  
Jiyong chokes out a garbled acknowledgement and a forced goodbye and that’s that. The call ends and Jiyong sinks back into the couch. His sobs slowly turn into little hitches and then hiccups and then sniffs until he is staring into space, calmly trying to comprehend what’s just happened and the possible reasons for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to that ancient video of gtop dancing to candy shop in their pyjamas


	5. The end

  
  
After speaking to Seunghyun’s father, Jiyong is dazed. Their conversation feels unreal to him. He can’t process it. They’ll _come?_ To a _wedding?_ Why? How? _What? _He has to call Dami and tell her what’s going on but he’s too dumbstruck to string a sentence together. He’ll have to call in the morning. If the ceremony _is_ back on, he’ll need help. He’ll have _three days_ to organize a wedding and that makes his head spin. He has to get Seunghyun out of the house so they can set up. He has to get the guest rooms ready. He has to finish his vows. There’s _so much_ that needs to happen.  
  
When Seunghyun comes home from work, Jiyong masks the frenzied panic now rattling his brain, but he looks at Seunghyun through different eyes. He watches him undress and wonders what will it be like to stand in front of their families and say _I do?_ Will it change anything? Will they feel more committed to each other or the same? Practically speaking, they’re basically married already. When Seunghyun proposed and said a real wedding was just a piece of paper, he was right.  
  
At the same time, they don’t _feel_ ‘married’ married. Partners, yes. Soulmates, loftily so. He has looked at Seunghyun a million times and known they will stay together. But felt _married _married? Not quite.  
  
The _suggestion _that he might one day tell someone they’re married and have that be true? That excites him. Not ‘we’re as good as married’ but MARRIED. Something _physically_ acted-out and witnessed by loved ones. The theatre of it shouldn’t matter, but it does. What Seunghyun said a long time ago about wanting people to _see _them was a real yearning. Being seen matters.  
  
The excitement and anxiety should keep him awake, but that night he sleeps better than he has in weeks. For a while anyway. He sleeps a dead and satisfying sleep which phases into a murky dream about their ceremony. Everything is set up beautifully. The atmosphere is light and perfect. Seunghyun’s parents are there amid the music and the greenery and fairy lights. Things feel warm and focussed. And then they disappear. In the middle of the wedding, Seunghyun’s parents _disappear _and in his dream, Jiyong has to comfort a Seunghyun who’s had his heart kicked in.  
  
Jiyong wakes up in a sweat and finds Seunghyun gone for the morning. It’s late. Almost 10:30. He should panic at the lost time but he doesn’t. Instead, he rolls over and lays a hand on the place where Seunghyun always sleeps. He strokes the soft sheets beneath his fingers. That nightmare he just had is possible, isn’t it? Seunghyun’s parents showing up and fucking it all up? It might happen. Maybe they’ve agreed to show up but they haven’t agreed to _stay.  
_  
A week ago, they couldn’t even acknowledge Seunghyun as a gay man in a committed relationship. How will they cope with loving vows bandied across the room? When he and Seunghyun kiss beneath a wedding arch in the house they share together? Seunghyun’s parents have never seen them interacting as a couple. Can they really go from denial to a ceremony so quickly? Isn’t a level of blowback inevitable? Even if it’s not intentional.  
  
Jiyong calls his sister to relay the good news and unload his doubts onto her. She is dumbstruck by the sudden development with Seunghyun’s parents. Once that dissipates, she becomes cautiously excited and begins listing the overwhelming volume of things they both have to do to prepare, but Jiyong cuts her off and tells her about his dream.  
  
‘Isn’t that a bad omen?’  
  
‘Maybe,’ she answers, ‘or just a sign of an active imagination.’  
  
‘But it could happen, right? I mean seriously, there’s a chance that could _happen_. That his parents will show up and see us kiss or hear me recite a loving speech and---’ he shrugs aimlessly in bed. ‘What if his father drops down dead? Or is disgusted by us or _by me?_ What if our wedding plays out like a film and when asked if there’s anyone present who objects, they both start screaming?’  
  
Dami sighs and does what she always does. She tells the truth.  
  
‘It’s possible,’ she says diplomatically. ‘I don’t think they would do anything to ruin the ceremony on purpose, but there’s a _chance_ they might leave. It’s a lot for them to process, isn’t it? Maybe they won’t stay for the whole thing. I have to believe that won’t happen but it’s a possibility you have to consider. Is it worth the risk?’  
  
Jiyong imagines the worst-case scenario, with their two families brawling on the grass and Seunghyun’s father waving a bible in the air while shouting sermons against homosexuality. It’s dark but the absurdity makes it comical, not something to fear.  
  
Instead, he imagines a more inconspicuous type of disaster. He pictures Seunghyun’s parents quietly slipping outside in the middle of their vows. Maybe one of them becomes overwhelmed. Maybe someone needs air. Maybe they do their best but it’s not enough. He thinks about Seunghyun turning around to get their support and encouragement only to find an empty space.  
  
That would be so much worse than a violent explosion with raised fists. The quiet, insidious disappointment would hit deeper. He knows what that would do to Seunghyun. Seeing his parents at the ceremony will be a lot for him to process. Deep down, even if he tries to maintain some distance, their presence will affect him. It might plant the seeds of a happiness he hasn’t allowed himself to believe in yet. To turn around and find them gone without warning would do irreparable damage.  
  
‘No,’ Jiyong answers honestly. ‘It’s not worth it’.  
  
He wanted to shock Seunghyun’s parents into confronting his sexuality because the situation was becoming unbearable for Seunghyun as it was, but he may just be replacing one hurt with another. Seunghyun’s parents agreeing to show up is a good step, isn’t it? If he postpones, maybe they can have the ceremony at a later date with more confidence. Is it worth the risk to do it now? With Seunghyun’s family completely untested? This is a family barely speaking to each other. The potential for disaster suddenly feels too real.  
  
Jiyong gives Dami a list of things to start working on, then makes a second call, emboldened by necessity.

  
* * *  
  
  
  
Much like the last call, he doesn’t prepare a speech or think too deeply about what to say. He just needs answers and reassurances and no carefully planned speech to avoid hurt feelings or make himself feel braver will make _that_ easier. Anyway, he doesn’t have the time.  
  
So, he calls Seunghyun’s parents, not knowing who he wants to speak to least. When Seunghyun’s mother promptly answers the phone, he isn’t relieved or disappointed. He’s just anxious for things to not fall apart.  
  
It’s awkward from the first second. He tries his best to make small talk to ease into the main conversation, but it feels disingenuous and stupid to say anything to each other that _isn’t _related to the herd of elephants in the room. The last time he spoke to her, he berated her and now she’s coming to their wedding without anything in between.  
  
Too quickly, he cracks. He hears her impatience as much as he feels his own, so the words tumble out of his mouth like an overfilled dam.  
  
‘I want to talk to you about the wedding,’ he says.  
  
She answers with a murmur of acknowledgement. It doesn’t bode well. Her silence reignites a premonition of them disappearing in between their vows or worse, mumbling and nodding her way through it all so she never has to tell her son a lie like _I’m happy for you_.  
  
Jiyong pulls Seunghyun’s pillow into his lap.  
  
‘The last time I spoke to you, it didn’t go as well as I planned,’ he begins. ‘Even though I had good intentions, I know my visit was uncomfortable for you. I didn’t really expect to hear from either of you again. So, I was surprised by that phone call yesterday. I don’t really understand it. I don’t know what’s changed.’  
  
She doesn’t answer and it’s so like when he sat beside her days earlier with a photo album and begged her to _say_ something, trying to trigger some emotional response. He gets nothing from her. He squeezes Seunghyun’s pillow and speaks to her like an equal. He forces himself to shed his fear of her and his fear of Seunghyun’s family. He sidesteps his reverence for authority and the instinct to make himself smaller for her. He can only get the answers he needs by pushing for them.  
  
‘I want you to understand what’s going to happen at this ceremony,’ he says boldly. ‘That for all it’s worth, I’m thinking of this as a real wedding with everything that entails. I’m going to recite my vows and Seunghyun will say his own. We’ll be together in front of you for the first time, completely open about our life together and how we feel about each other,’ he says emphatically. ‘I _want_ you both to be there, but I need you to understand I’m not going to stifle my words or my emotions to make you more comfortable. So, if that part of my relationship with your son is still discomfiting, you may have a hard time with this. This isn’t a photo album. It’s going to be _real,_’ he says sympathetically. ‘And I need to know that neither of you will become overwhelmed by that and walk out halfway through because that would be a thousand times worse than the wedding not going ahead. I can’t go through with the ceremony if there is even the _smallest _risk of that happening because Seunghyun would be devastated,’ Jiyong stresses. ‘I’m surprised but _grateful _at the thought of you both being there for him, but you have never seen us together and the last few months haven’t been an open environment for anybody. And I have no idea why you’ve decided to attend all of a sudden, so _please_ understand where I’m coming from. I need reassurance. I can’t go through with this wedding if there’s _any _chance of Seunghyun being hurt. You need you to tell me that won’t happen.’  
  
He releases his grip on Seunghyun’s pillow and his heart pounds through the long silence that follows. When the answer does come, it sounds dejected more than anything.  
  
‘Nobody will leave.’  
  
She doesn’t say _everything will be okay_. All she can promise is that no-one will leave the room in the middle of it. Jiyong answers in a relieved exhale, a quiet _okay._ Still, he is still apprehensive about the unknowns. It’s not enough to know they are willing to come. For Seunghyun’s sake, he has to know _why_.  
  
‘I don’t want to overstep but, all things considered, I really do need an answer. What changed your mind?’ he asks. ‘Or not changed your mind, but—what made you decide to come to this wedding? A few days ago, this felt impossible. Explain this to me. Please.’  
  
She huffs and that feels like an acknowledgement. That days ago, this _was_ impossible. That he would have been _right_ to cancel the flowers and everything else because this couple wouldn’t be bullied into attending a wedding for love nor money.  
  
When she answers, she sounds aggrieved but there’s something in it that Jiyong doesn’t expect. Thinly veiled pain.  
  
‘A few days ago,’ she says quietly, ‘an acquaintance of mine congratulated me while I was having lunch at the club. ‘_You must be so proud of Seunghyun, being offered a chance to curate for the National Museum._ That’s what she said to me. I didn’t know what she was talking about. Her husband works at the museum and told her, _apparently._ She knew before I did because Seunghyun didn’t tell me. I know what an opportunity that must be for him. But he didn’t say anything.’  
  
Jiyong frowns. Despite everything that’s happened, it’s hard not to be sympathetic.  
  
_‘You_ knew,’ she said. ‘You told me an opportunity had come along that I should ask him about. The night you brought Yeonjun home. Do you remember? I didn’t give it any thought. I dismissed it because I assumed Seunghyun would tell me anything that mattered.’ Every word comes out strained, like she is pulling her sentences out like teeth. ‘So, when this woman told me the details of my own son’s life, I couldn’t help but recall what you said to me when I last saw you. You said that---’ her voice almost wavers, ‘that if we didn’t make more of an effort to acknowledge Seunghyun’s life, he would simply stop talking to us. Forever. That he would rather have no parents than parents who see someone else when he walks into a room. I remember those words _very_ clearly,’ she says bitterly. ‘And you must have been right because he’s had several weeks to tell me and he evidently has no plans to tell me in the future either. He has no interest in talking to me at all, in fact.’  
  
Jiyong sighs now, a wavering breath of regret. His own words sounds harsh repeated back to him, even if it was true. Even if what she’s saying right now is _proof_ of that. She sounds bitter and her bitterness rankles him because what did she expect? Even now, in her conciliation, a piece of her is still putting the blame on Seunghyun.  
  
‘That’s why we’re attending,’ she says quietly, not without anger. ‘Because I don’t understand _any_ of this, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, but I love my son and I don’t want to be pushed out of his life because we aren’t making an effort to do what he feels we should be doing for him. I thought we were but---’  
  
‘No,’ Jiyong answers simply.  
  
She doesn’t say anything more but Jiyong is surprised by her honesty and candidness. Even her admission that she has no idea how to accept this relationship or what Seunghyun told her. Being honest is a start, even it’s not pleasant. It’s leagues better than burying her head in the sand and waiting for it to all blow over. Bridges have to be built. For her relationship with Seunghyun to heal and mend, she has to keep walking in the right direction. And, despite their rocky interactions and the edge of bitterness in her voice, Jiyong wants her to succeed because that’s what Seunghyun needs in his life. Isn’t it worth something that she spoke more than two words to him? He can’t remember the last time he heard her speak so much at one time.  
  
‘Listen,’ he says reluctantly, trying to sound sympathetic. ‘I’ve spent more time with Seunghyun over the last fifteen years than anyone and there were very few constants in his life all that time. Our lives were constantly flip-flopping and our schedules changed erratically, but the one thing that stayed the same was his routine with you,’ he says. ‘Every week for fifteen years, your son called you on the phone so he could hear your voice and tell you about his week. That’s so _bizarre._ You know that, right?’ Jiyong asks, well-meaning. ‘Nobody does that. No son does that, but he did it for you because he loves you. He _loves_ you and he wants you to be part of his life. You have no idea how much he wants that. He isn’t trying to _push you out, _alright? He’s just trying to protect himself.’  
  
‘From me?’ she asks  
  
‘From _rejection,’_ Jiyong answers. ‘Before he told you the truth, it didn’t matter so much that you didn’t know this side of him, because he _chose_ that. But now he’s chosen to let you in and you couldn’t walk through the door he left open for you. And he _waited_.’ Jiyong says, slightly irritated. ‘_This_ is his life now. He’s not split down the middle anymore between his private life and his public life where he keeps up appearances. _This_ life where he can be himself is the only universe he’s interested in now. If you want to have meaningful interactions with him, you have to join him in this new world he’s built for himself. You have to accept things as they are. That’s it.’  
  
Jiyong sighs, wishing he had better metaphors up his sleeve and less of Seunghyun’s anger in him. The next time he sees this woman in person will be at his _wedding._ He needs to say something to ease her into that.  
  
‘Look, my relationship with my dad was difficult when I first came out,’ he says candidly. ‘He couldn’t understand me. That I liked men as well as women. Seunghyun. None of it. He couldn’t put words to his feelings. So, for a while, we just didn’t really talk to each other. I knew he _loved_ me, but it was like we didn’t know each other anymore, like I was a stranger to him.’ Jiyong squeezes Seunghyun’s pillow again and his words come less easily. ‘I tried to create a new normal for us. I tried to talk about Seunghyun openly. I tried to include him as much as possible in our life and eventually, things got easier for both of us. I think he realised that I was healthier and happier with Seunghyun in my life and that made it easier for him to understand and accept,’ Jiyong says. ‘When my parents came to visit us for the first time, he made the effort to treat Seunghyun like a normal part of our family and I think it surprised him, how easy it was.’  
  
Seunghyun’s mother makes an unintelligible sound that Jiyong can’t interpret.  
  
‘All I’m saying,’ he says quietly, ‘is that sometimes it takes a little time. I get it. I can only tell you that I know my parents so much better now that they know _me_. My family is stronger and fuller now because Seunghyun is part of it,’ he says emphatically. ‘Honesty has done so much for us, and I know it can be the same for you. If you just show up and keep showing up for Seunghyun, things will get easier between you. Being there for him this weekend is a big deal. You can’t take a bigger first step for him. He’ll see the effort you’re making. He’ll know you _love_ him. Things will get better with time.’  
  
In a moment of vulnerability, Seunghyun’s mother speaks in an unguarded voice. One filled with uncertainty and fear. Real human _feelings._  
  
‘Are things really so bad between us at the moment?’  
  
Jiyong frowns at the tone in her voice and her budding awareness. She hasn’t seen the fallout of the last few months firsthand or heard Seunghyun’s resolutions that he’ll find a way to live without his parents. On some level, she knows anyway. Seunghyun has been pulling away from them and building walls to keep them out. Before, they were complacent or unaware of it. But something has changed over the last few days. She has seen a future stretch out before her that doesn’t have Seunghyun in it. She has felt his warmth recede.  
  
‘Yeah. I think things are pretty bad,’ he says. ‘But it’s not too late.’  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
With Seunghyun’s mother’s assurance that neither of them will ruin the wedding, Jiyong has to hope for the best and get started on the monumental list of tasks in front of him. The biggest of all is getting Seunghyun out of the house. Weeks earlier, when conjuring possible scenarios, he decided on something simple. He would ask Seunghyun to go to Seoul to pick something up for him and while there, think up some excuse to keep him there for _two days._  
  
It takes Jiyong two hours to come to a discrete arrangement with a mutual friend, an abstract artist he and Seunghyun know. Originally from Hong Kong, the painter has spent the last few years mulling about in a tidy city studio in Seoul. He chain smokes, flits around the arty sect of society and occasionally hosts his own exhibitions. He’s eccentric but well liked and well received, selling most of his paintings for many many digits.  
  
Jiyong calls and asks if he has anything for sale, settling on whichever painting costs the most, sight unseen. The three of them have spent too many nights together drinking in Seoul, and though they haven’t seen each other recently, their warm friendship is still there. So, Jiyong asks for a favour. He contrives a story about a special occasion. He tells an egregious fucking lie, really, that Seunghyun has a loving girlfriend with plans that require him to be in Seoul for two full days while preparations are made at home, in Seunghyun’s imaginary Jeju abode.  
  
The artist happily agrees to play along. By whatever excuse, he will stop Seunghyun from collecting the painting when he first goes to pick it up. He’ll string him along and keep him lingering around the studio for two days citing last minute corrections or additions. He gets to sell a painting and Seunghyun stays out of the house long enough for his girlfriend’s loving surprise to come together. It’s mutually beneficial.  
  
After that, for Jiyong, it’s a question of _why_ Seunghyun has to collect the painting instead of him doing it himself. After all, Seunghyun has less time as he ramps up preparations for his Museum debut and _‘I don’t feel like driving_’ isn’t a very good excuse.  
  
Shamefully, in a moment of inspiration, Jiyong fakes a sprained ankle. It’s an uncomfortable subterfuge but he surprises himself with the power of his own acting. The chance opens up and he takes it. His history of very real ankle rolls means he pulls it off to perfection. Too well, because Seunghyun sees it happen and is so genuinely concerned, he spends two hours trying to check on it. It takes all of Jiyong’s acting chops to keep Seunghyun from seeing a very un-swollen ankle. He has to talk Seunghyun out of worrying about further surgeries. It’s touching and makes him feel like an asshole.  
  
Still, he lays on a story about the painting and how he was meant to collect it tomorrow and how he can’t possibly do it now with his ankle the way it is. He _has_ to have it this weekend.  
  
To Seunghyun’s credit, as busy as he is, he offers to drive to Seoul and pick it up.  
  
_‘You didn’t tell me you were buying anything.’  
  
‘It was a commission. I did it on a whim. It was meant to be a surprise----'_  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
That night, Dami confirms her role as unofficial celebrant and Jiyong tries to discretely write some vows. With Seunghyun milling about he finds it hard to concentrate and doesn’t write _anything._ Instead, he panics about sleeping arrangements. To date, he has berated, accused and upset Seunghyun’s parents on multiple occasions. The thought of hosting them overnight makes him feel ill.  
  
BUT he wants Seunghyun to bond with them or have a meaningful moment with them. The last few months have been difficult. Won’t it be easier for them to connect if they’re staying in the same house? He can’t help thinking about his own parents visits and how the most pleasant memories were formed in innocuous or unexpected moments. He wants Seunghyun to have that chance.  
  
He wants Seunghyun’s family to stay with them in the house.  
  
They have several spare bedrooms, but most of them are empty or being used as storage. They have furnished rooms for one family but not both. Unromantic as it is to have a house full of family on their wedding night, it doesn’t feel right to send everyone to a hotel. He has to prepare for the possibility they will stay. So, with Seunghyun sleeping beside him, Jiyong spends two hours looking for a store online who can do same-day delivery and he orders two rooms worth of furniture to be delivered in the afternoon Seunghyun travels to Seoul.  
  
  
*  
  
  
The next day, he almost forgets his fake injury and has to change into long pants before Seunghyun sees his perfect little ankle in good working order. When they meet in the hallway, Jiyong looks pained and limps and Seunghyun helps him downstairs like a country gentleman.  
  
Again, Jiyong tries to write his vows but the reality of what he has to pull off over the next two days makes his head spin. He can’t sit still for a minute and finds himself looking out the window every five minutes in case the furniture arrives early.  
  
Blissfully, Seunghyun leaves at lunch time and Jiyong waves him off, feeling guilty when he says he’ll be back before dinner.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
The furniture comes in the afternoon and Jiyong gets the driver to leave everything in the garage. With a mask over his face and his tattoos covered, he completes the hand-off unrecognised. God knows, it would be easier to have the company put the shit together themselves but he can’t risk having strangers in the house. By some absolute fucking miracle, he and Seunghyun have been in Inje for a year without anyone recognising them or spilling the beans. A wedding weekend could not be a worse time to break that streak.  
  
Dami turns up an hour later with her suitcase, staying for the long haul, and they manage to drag each box of flat pack furniture upstairs, huffing and puffing and shouting in frustration.  
  
After a few hours, the beds are put together and Jiyong is crumpled into a stressed ball in the corner. Tired and cranky but grateful for the distraction of doing menial labour, he has barely thought about the other impending stresses of the weekend.  
  
‘I better hear the snoring of Seunghyun’s father in this room on Sunday. I’ve lost _all_ the feeling in my hand,’ Jiyong gripes, wiggling his fingers. ‘I’ve merged with this screwdriver.’  
  
‘You’re putting his parents in the room across from you?’  
  
‘Where else should I put them? An air mattress in the greenhouse?’  
  
Dami shrugs demurely.  
  
‘I guess you’re having a _chaste_ wedding night.’  
  
Jiyong grimaces and feigns a stabbing motion with his screwdriver.  
  
‘They’re _all_ chaste nights. We’re virgins who pray together and sleep in two separate beds and that’s all my sister needs to know.’  
  
When Seunghyun calls near dinner time, Jiyong’s head aches from shame. He has scarcely thought about Seunghyun since he sent him away earlier in the day. Hearing his fatigue and frustration on the phone, Jiyong is racked with guilt. His scheming plot with their mutual friend has been a success. The artist has kept Seunghyun in Seoul for the first night as promised and turned a day trip into an overnight one.  
  
_‘You’re not coming back tonight? Seunghyun, I’m sorry. If I knew there was going to be a delay, I wouldn’t have sent you into town. Do you still have some spare clothes at your apartment?’_  
  
When Jiyong hangs up, he is glad things are going to plan but he feels like shit anyway. Seunghyun is busy preparing for his work with the National Museum. He has a lot on his plate. Being stuck in Seoul for two days without any of his things will be a nightmare. Won’t it be worth it in the end though? He forces himself to think about the endgame and gets back to work.  
  
When the first bedside table is pieced together and moved into place, Dami slides the top drawer into position and gives the thumbs up.  
  
‘Perfect. This drawer is actually _perfect_ for a bible. I assume you have one in your own bedside table?’  
  
Jiyong groans and covers his head with his arms like he is under attack. He can feel the direction her imminent jokes will be coming from.  
  
‘Don’t joke about sex, I’m begging you. You don’t know the conversation I had to have with mom about it.’  
  
‘Mom asked you about sex?’ Dami laughs.  
  
‘She asked if we used protection and brought up aids. I almost had a stroke. I broke out into a sweat. I still have nightmares about it.’  
  
Dami laughs so hard she cries, and Jiyong can’t help but laugh with her. They don’t spend a lot of time together in person anymore. It’s nice having her in the house.  
  
  
*  
  
  
It is midnight before all the furniture is finally put together and in its place. While Dami makes the beds with fresh linen, Jiyong drags the junk formerly occupying the two spare rooms down to the cellar.  
  
He is so exhausted and fatigued on the way back, he gives up on the stairs and closes his eyes. When he feels Dami looming above him, he grunts tiredly.  
  
‘I don’t want to get married anymore. Too tired.’  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
The next morning, Dami wakes him up with a pillow to the face. He wakes with a start and has immediate flashbacks to her tormenting him as a child. His first instinct is to kick her like he used to. He only refrains because he’s in his undies and she’s half out the door before he can say anything. She just shouts her message and disappears.  
  
‘We have a lot to set up today and you should finish your vows. Get up.’  
  
  
* *  
  
  
  
Jiyong’s ‘to do’ list gets smaller as the day goes on.  
  
With the spare rooms finished and the lighting arriving early, he and Dami spend a few hours trying to set things up. The original idea he has for the layout of the ceremony doesn’t pan out, so they lay things out on the floor using cushions as markers. They experiment. He walks through their rearranged lounge-room thirty times before it feels right.  
  
With the floor plan organised, they lay fairy lights on the ground that form a walkway to the patio where the arch will be, and they manage to set up most of the lighting outside. They will tweak it when the sun goes down. The rest will get done tomorrow when the flowers and plants show up. With half of the furniture downstairs moved into other parts of the house or down to the cellar, it all starts to look more real. In his mind, Jiyong can already see the arch and greenery. He can see the lights playing off the different colours and textures. In the morning, the outdoor heaters will show up and he can already feel their warmth. It will be a simple ceremony, but nicer for it maybe. He’ll be able to take it in more fully and savour every detail.  
  
They are taking a break for lunch when Seunghyun calls him again and bemoans their mutual friend refusing to hand over the painting in Seoul. Seunghyun doesn’t understand the delay or why he can’t come home and pick it up another time. It’s difficult to convince him to _wait _but Jiyong hangs up convinced that he won’t show up on the doorstep in two hours. His guilt grows by the second. He should have thought of a better excuse to get Seunghyun out of the house for two days. He’s surprised his subterfuge is even working.  
  
‘That’s cute,’ Dami says, eating the last of her lunch.  
  
‘What is?’  
  
‘You don’t like lying to him.’  
  
‘No,’ he answers. ‘But I’ve been doing it _a lot_ lately.’  
  
She shrugs. White lies are okay when they’re for a good cause.  
  
‘How are your vows coming along?’  
  
‘They’re not,’ Jiyong answers weakly. ‘I don’t know what to say. It feels like we’ve already said all the important stuff. I’ve told him I love him a thousand times already. There are only so many ways of saying it.’  
  
‘I don’t think you need to reinvent _I love you’.  
_  
‘Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? And our _parents_ will be there. I told Seunghyun’s mother I wouldn’t censor myself to make them more comfortable but how can I not? Whenever I write something down, I have to imagine myself saying it in front of Seunghyun’s father and I cross it out before it can even grow on me.’  
  
Dami smiles sympathetically.  
  
‘I’m sure you’ll figure it out.’  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
When they eventually go to bed around midnight, they have tweaked and finished the outdoor lighting. Fairy lights weave in and out of the lattice above and to the sides, and a few cleverly placed standing lights illuminate the right areas and ensure the garden outside the patio fades into darkness. It is cosier now. Tweaking the lights at night gave them a preview of the next night’s ceremony. Even without the arch and flowers and decorations, Jiyong felt a pre-emptive tremble standing on the marker beneath a soft spotlight. He felt the breeze blow against his skin and the sound of the leaves rustling. It was nice.  
  
The ceremony is tomorrow night and there’s still so much to do. Almost everything, really. The decorations and plants and arch will arrive first thing in the morning. They only have a few hours to set everything up. They still have to organise the music and standing arrangements. He has to make sure Seunghyun comes home at the right time and through the front door so the surprise isn’t ruined. He has to settle on an outfit and get his hair done. His parents have to bring food. He has to wrangle Seunghyun’s parents when _they _arrive. They all have to do a practice run. He has to finish his vows.  
  
For all his daydreaming over the last two weeks, it has been more difficult to pull something together than he expected. Dami has done almost everything.  
  
Past midnight, he sits in bed with a notebook and a pen and looks over the vows he has already written and crossed out. Maybe it’s the act of reading them on paper, but his feelings seem disingenuous when he has to put them into words. They don’t feel _real_ enough.  
  
He is chewing on the end of his pen, mind wandering, when his phone rings. Despite the late hour, it’s Seunghyun trying to video chat. Poor Seunghyun who called at dinner time and said he wouldn’t make it home for the _second_ night in a row. Jiyong answers the call, worried about the late hour.  
  
He is relieved to find Seunghyun looking healthy and normal when the video clicks on, albeit tired. Seunghyun is in bed.  
  
‘Hi,’ Jiyong says sympathetically. ‘Homesick?’  
  
Seunghyun shakes his head and rubs his eyes.  
  
‘No. I’m calling to question your taste,’ he gripes, ‘because I’ve seen the painting I’m here to collect. It’s garbage. It didn’t look good yesterday and it doesn’t look any better today after its alleged ‘_touch ups_’. You want to hang this at home? Are you pranking me?’  
  
Jiyong grimaces at Seunghyun’s frustration. He hasn’t actually seen the painting he bought from their friend. He just needed _something _for Seunghyun to pick up. It was a hugely expensive pretext. He has liked the majority of their friends work and so has Seunghyun. It surprises him that he may have spent thousands of dollars on something that looks like shit.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Jiyong replies gently. ‘I’ll call him in the morning and make sure he hands it over. You’ll be home tomorrow, I promise. I didn’t mean to send you on a never-ending errand.’  
  
‘I _will_ be home tomorrow,’ Seunghyun answers, peeved. ‘If it’s not done tomorrow, I’m putting it in the car wet & unfinished. Three times, I told him I was driving home and would come back tomorrow. Every time, he said, _ just a few more hours and it will be ready to go,_’ Seunghyun scoffs._ ‘_I don’t even have pyjamas with me. I had to _buy_ pyjamas.’  
  
Jiyong frowns in sympathy and feels even worse when Seunghyun’s annoyance softens and he asks about him.  
  
‘How’s your ankle?’  
  
‘It’s okay. I’ve been staying off it.’  
  
Jiyong rolls his perfectly well ankle and feels guilty for lying about an injury. He hopes it’s all worth it in the end. He just has to keep Seunghyun in Seoul until tomorrow night.  
  
Seunghyun’s eyes close and he yawns a sweet sentiment.  
  
‘Despite you torturing me, I miss you.’  
  
‘After only two days?’ Jiyong smiles. ‘You go to Seoul all the time without me. You can’t miss me yet.’  
  
‘Well, I do.’  
  
Jiyong imitates Seunghyun’s actions and props his phone on the pillow beside him, lying on his side the way Seunghyun is in Seoul. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend they are side by side.  
  
‘Will you stay on with me?’ Seunghyun asks.  
  
‘On the chat?’  
  
Seunghyun murmurs in answer and buries his face in his pillow more soundly. He looks desperately tired. He can’t be comfortable in Seoul without any of his things. Sure, he still has a bed in his empty apartment but almost nothing else. When they travel to Seoul, they still take clothes and toiletries with them.  
  
‘Let’s go to sleep together,’ Seunghyun answers without opening his eyes.  
  
Jiyong smiles knowingly, touched. Seunghyun has called him at 12:30 at night so they can fall asleep together. He tries to smother some of the outrageous affection in his voice before whispering a tender goodnight.  
  
Seunghyun falls asleep so quickly, Jiyong watches it happen in minutes.  
  
While Seunghyun sleeps, Jiyong picks up the pencil between them and tries to use this feeling of explosive love and protectiveness to write some poignant vows but the words still won’t come. Even with _this_ inspiration.  
  
He watches Seunghyun sleep and thinks back to when this privilege was still new and intoxicating. Unused to sleeping with another person, the first few times they shared a bed, Jiyong found it uncomfortable. Seunghyun’s body was too hot or his feet too cold and the feel of someone’s breath on the back of his neck drove him crazy. It was stifling. But then, the longer they were together the more used to it he became, until being separated meant a sleepless night of tossing and turning. Like lovestruck teens, they gave each other shirts to throw on pillows so they could smell and ‘hold’ each other when they couldn’t sleep in the same place.  
  
Seunghyun snores quietly and Jiyong titters. Tomorrow, if he’s really _really_ lucky, he’ll marry this man and the measure of his love will max out.  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
When he wakes the next morning, it’s early and the video chat has ended. There is a text from Seunghyun saying _good-morning_. Jiyong smiles and clears his eyes with his knuckles. Is there a sweeter, more propitious way to wake up on your secret wedding day?  
  
Of course, realising that today is _the day_, that in several hours-time he is supposed to pull off a shotgun wedding without any hitches, he flies into a panic. He realises he has slept in. It’s almost 10am. Seunghyun’s parents are showing up at 3. The rest of the supplies and decorations should have shown up at 6:30—_hours ago_. He lurches out of bed with his ankle trapped in the sheets and lands in a pile on the ground. It’s here, with his face in the carpet, that he first smells something coming from downstairs. Something familiar.  
  
He pulls on some pants and quickly skips down the stairs, stopping just before the bottom in shock. Last night when he went to sleep, only the lighting was in place. There were still pieces of furniture to move and rearrange. The lounge room was in disarray; the most basic shell of a physical wedding. There was so much left to do. Now, he touches the bottom landing with wide eyes. In front of him is the fairy light pathway he set up with Dami yesterday, but around it and filling the room to bursting are potted plants and flowers and imitation fruit trees. They are arranged to perfection to create a beautiful wall of greenery and colour bordering the fairy light aisle. He can see lights strung through and around some of the plants. There is a pretend orange tree ten feet in front of him and the whole scene comes together so beautifully, he can’t recognise his own house.  
  
The faucet sounds from the kitchen and he pulls himself away from what used to be his lounge room. When he walks around the corner, he finds his mother standing at the sink with a smile on her face and sweat on her brow. The counters are covered in plates of food. Food she brought from Seoul and food she has made herself. The oven is on. Things are on the stove. Is she catering this wedding? But where did she come from? How long has she _been_ here? In the pan closest to her are the vegetables pancakes she used to make him for breakfast on special occasions. He can tell by the look on her face, she has made them for him again.  
  
His lips part to speak but he is cut off. His father rounds the corner from the other side of the house and loudly gives solicitations to the groom. Dami yells from some distant part of the yard and Jiyong realises his whole family is here. They must have shown up at the crack of dawn to help him set up. His lip quivers like a child and his eyes water. His father pulls him into a hug before he can burst into tears.  
  
‘Today’s the day,’ his father says animatedly while slapping his back. ‘Do you want to see outside? It’s not finished but--- _almost.’  
_  
Jiyong nods dumbly and lets his father lead him back in the direction he came from, back to the bottom of the stairs and the newly installed forest. Though the lights are turned off, his father nudges him down the path he is meant to take later tonight with Seunghyun. In his pyjamas and bare feet, Jiyong lets his father poke and prod him up the makeshift aisle and the more steps he takes, the more work Jiyong sees finished around him. The gorgeous greenery extends the entire length of the house, to the outside. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and scattered all over the downstairs to create this insular but beautiful space that doesn’t feel real. The amount of plants here must have filled two trucks. There is more here than he ordered which means his parents or Dami must have supplemented or planned their own additions.s  
  
He is so dumbstruck by every aspect, so focussed on what is _around_ him, he isn’t concentrating on what is ahead. Then, they approach the open glass doors to the patio and Jiyong sees the half-constructed wedding arch draped in white flowers, vines and daisies. The top is missing but he can see it on the ground behind it. It’s beautiful. His eyes water and his throat goes dry as he stops at the doors.  
  
This is where the wedding will actually happen, on this patio in the darkness. Where yesterday there were lights alone, there are now plants and flowers, an arch, three small standing tables with candles and flowers in vases. There is greenery above him interwoven through the lattice roof. The outdoor heaters haven’t arrived yet but he can see where they’ll go and directly across from him, behind the half-completed arch, is a wooden placard with his and Seunghyun’s names on it, hand painted.  
  
He didn’t order half of these things which means--  
  
Dami appears from nowhere and gives him a thumbs up. There is a ladder in the corner. She has been rigging up some speakers. Two tears streak down his face in quick succession. He sniffs and Dami hugs him warmly.  
  
‘How did you get this extra stuff here?’ Jiyong asks emotionally. ‘How did you do all this while I was sleeping?’  
  
‘Our son is getting married,’ she says, touching his face tenderly. ‘We had to make sure it was perfect. We’ve been preparing for two weeks, just in case. Mom and Dad arrived at five this-morning. They helped unload everything off the trucks and help me set it all up. There’s still work to do, but it’s taking shape.’  
  
Jiyong lets another tear fall and looks around in awe.  
  
‘I can’t believe it. It’s beautiful.’  
  
Dami follows his gaze and nods appreciatively.  
  
‘It is. The Kwon’s put on a pretty good show’.  
  
She hugs him again and then spins him back into the arms of his father.  
  
‘You should eat something. You have a busy day ahead, and I have another surprise for you. It will be here in about twenty minutes so eat _quickly.’_  
  
_‘What?’_  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
Twenty minutes later, almost on the dot, he has eaten and savoured his mother’s special pancakes, openly cried six times and panicked about his still unwritten vows when the doorbell rings. He is in the kitchen when Dami answers it but the voice who responds to her is so familiar to him, he slips off the chair and rounds the corner like a passionate child, wild eyed with a pounding heart.  
  
Taehyun drops her bags in front of him and holds her arms out with a huge smile. It has been _months_ since they’ve seen each other. His face crumples into tears and he throws his arms around her. It doesn’t cross his mind to ask what she’s doing here or wonder how it’s possible for her to _be_ here on his wedding day when she doesn’t know a thing about it. He’s so happy to see her, none of that matters.  
  
They have messaged each other online over the past twelve months, but things haven’t been the same since he left YGE and the city. Maybe he unconsciously pulled away from her, guilty to have left the way he did. To have left everyone behind. He didn’t want to be a disappointment to her. Her opinion mattered too much so he withdrew. He spoke to her less over time.  
  
Seeing her again, feeling her embrace again, even smelling her again fills him with so many precious memories, he is overcome with emotion. In the early years of YG when he was lonely and separated from his family, she filled whichever void he desperately needed filled. In turns, she was his mother, father, sister & best friend. She was the sort of person you’re not supposed to let go of.  
  
‘It hasn’t been that long since we saw each other. What’s the matter with you?’ she teases.  
  
Jiyong scoffs and knocks her shoulder.  
  
‘What’s the matter with _you?_ I’m not allowed to miss you?’  
  
Dami interjects with a warm smile.  
  
‘Taehyun, we’re so glad you could come. We’re so _grateful_. I’m sure Jiyong can show you the way to the upstairs bathroom.’ She looks at Jiyong’s confused face and fills him in. ‘She’s here to do your hair and make-up.’  
  
Jiyong’s face crumples again and he has to look at the ceiling to control his emotions. Under some insane pretext, Dami has brought one of his oldest friends to do his hair on his wedding day. Something, he never thought possible. Even shrouded in lies, this means _so much_ to him.  
  
‘Um—’ he clears his gravelly voice. ‘Upstairs and third door on the right is the bathroom. I’ll be there in a minute. I’ll bring your bags up,’ he tells Taehyun.  
  
When she is out of earshot, Jiyong pulls Dami into a fierce hug and wipes the wetness from his cheeks.  
  
‘What the fuck. I love you so much. _Thank-you._ How did you do this? But what did you tell her? What is she here for? What are we doing?’  
  
‘I didn’t tell her very much. I told her you agreed to star in a commercial for my store and that this house is rented for the purpose. So, this is a CF shoot. I didn’t tell her any more than that. I told her you missed her terribly and hinted this was just a pretext to see her again. She made space for you in her schedule.’  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
Jiyong arranges the main bathroom so he’s seated in a dining chair, looking at Taehyun’s reflection in the mirror as she fusses with his hair. She applauds its new thickness and says it's unruly. Jiyong struggles to come up with an aesthetic for a CF shoot that doesn’t exist, but he tells her he wants to look _nice_. He wants to look suave and sleek. Handsome. God knows, he hasn’t dressed up in a while.  
  
So, she gets to work and talks about her life, catching him up on everything he’s missed. If he closes his eyes, he can feel the past on all sides. With his eyes closed, he is at their ten-year anniversary concert and she is preparing him for a crowd of 50,000 people. With his eyes closed, they are on the set of a music video and he feels the relief of finally wrapping up a new album. With his eyes closed, he is visiting her salon during a group hiatus because he misses her and a haircut is a great excuse to get a hug. She has been in his life for so long, he feels his old world and the new collide.  
  
‘Have you been happy?’ she asks him.  
  
Jiyong opens his eyes, surprised by the question. Not _have you been well_, but _happy_.  
  
‘Yeah,’ he answers honestly. ‘I have’.  
  
They smile at each other in the mirror and she tugs a strand of his hair playfully.  
  
‘You look really good,’ she says earnestly. ‘_Healthy._ I worried about you over the last few years. Part of me wondered if I’d ever see you like this again. I’m glad I can.’  
  
She doesn’t ask what he’s been doing or where he’s living or any of those usual questions because he has fielded them already in online chats and text messages several months earlier. Maybe his answers weren’t convincing then because she never seemed to believe them. All the same, she never pushed for details. She was happy with surface talk and accepted it when he withdrew out of guilt.  
  
‘This isn’t a CF shoot,’ Jiyong says.  
  
‘No?’  
  
Something on her face tells Jiyong she knew that already. Probably the conspicuous lack of cameras and staff milling about. A house full of flowers, Jiyong’s family and nobody else? It doesn’t have the face of a commercial.  
  
‘I live here,’ he says, faintly smiling.  
  
To her credit, she doesn’t stop what she’s doing. She continues styling his hair, but she looks at him in the mirror with such warmth and equanimity. He knows he could tell her the whole story right now. He could tell her about Seunghyun and their life together and the world wouldn’t end. But he can’t tell her yet. There are some people he and Seunghyun need to tell_ together_. There are people who have been such a presence in both their lives, they need to reveal the truth together, side by side. Taehyun is one of them. He can’t do this one on his own.  
  
‘I’ve been living here since I retired,’ Jiyong says. ‘I’m sorry I lied when you asked me last year. I had my reasons for it. I didn’t want anyone to know where I was. For a while, I just wanted to be off the map entirely.’  
  
‘I understand,’ she says sympathetically. ‘It looks like your secrecy has done you good. I don’t think anyone knows. It’s a nice place too. It suits you.’  
  
They smile at each other again, then she moves between him and the mirror so for a few minutes, he can’t see himself. When she finally moves and he sees his finished hair, his mouth forms a small ‘o’. Slicked back on the sides and perfectly coiffed, she has trimmed and tidied his hair into something elegant. It looks fantastic. He looks at his reflection and it really falls upon him that this is his wedding day. This is the hair he will have when he says his vows. This hair, exactly as it is now.  
  
His eyes water against his will and he sniffs, trying to mask it.  
  
Then, his phone rings in his lap and Seunghyun’s name and face appear on the screen and he knows Taehyun has seen it but she says nothing. He quickly rises from the chair, hairs falling from the towel around his neck to the floor. He excuses himself apologetically, mouths how beautiful his hair is twenty times and steps into the hallway.  
  
_‘Hi.’_  
  
‘I’m coming home,’ Seunghyun answers tiredly. ‘I’ve kidnapped this painting. It’s in the car. I’m heading back.’  
  
Jiyong’s stomach sinks.  
  
‘Are you still in Seoul?’  
  
‘I’m about to head out.’  
  
_‘Don’t come back._ Stay in the city for a while.’  
  
‘What?’  
  
Jiyong bites his lip and sighs. He can only tell parts of the truth now. Maybe he could have done this from the beginning. Asked Seunghyun to leave for a few days and not ask why, but he wanted it to be a real _surprise._ He didn’t want to give Seunghyun time to think about what might be going on at home. So, Jiyong mixes truth with lie.  
  
‘I have something planned for us tonight and you’ll ruin it if you come home early. I--- I felt bad about you being stuck in the city for two days so I’ve cooked something special up here, but my surprise will only work if you come home at a certain time. You can’t come home early.’  
  
Seunghyun sighs, exasperated but then his voice takes on a more curious bent.  
  
‘What kind of surprise?’  
  
‘The kind of surprise I know you’ll _love_,’ Jiyong says emphatically. ‘So please do what I ask and don’t ask any more questions because this surprise is for you and you’ll thank me a thousand times over, I promise.’  
  
Seunghyun murmurs suspiciously.  
  
‘I need you to come home at 7pm,’ Jiyong says. ‘Not earlier or later. Get home as close to 7pm as you possibly can. And--- this is going to sound insane, but try and find a nice suit? Walk through the door like you’re at a black-tie event.’  
  
‘What?’ Seunghyun laughs, incredulous. ‘I had to buy pyjamas! I don’t have a _suit_ with me.’  
  
‘Buy one!’ Jiyong answers.  
  
‘I only wear tailored!’  
  
‘Alright, so I’ll call Gee-eun and have her send something to your apartment. She must have something that fits you. It’s important. You have to look _nice_ for this surprise.’  
  
‘I’ve been sleeping in an empty apartment all weekend and have barely slept six hours in all that time. You expect me to look _nice?_ Really?’  
  
Jiyong tries to sound as sympathetic and loving and devoted as possible to cajole Seunghyun into playing along and not asking any more questions, to not fight him on this. Of course, this is completely insane but he didn’t have enough time to plan every single aspect. He didn’t think about how to get Seunghyun wedding-ready without spilling the secret.  
  
‘Seunghyun, I know this weekend has been all my fault and I’m so _sorry,_ but I will make it up to you when you come home tonight. I know you’re frustrated and tired but trust me when I say that if you don’t dress up tonight, you’ll regret it.’  
  
Seunghyun immediately groans, almost petulant at the scale of whatever this surprise is.  
  
‘What have you planned? I’m so _tired!_ What’s going to happen tonight? This is exasperating.’  
  
‘I know,’ Jiyong answers. ‘But if you love me at all, you’ll do this favour for me. Go back to your apartment and wait. I’ll find you a suit. And remember, 7pm. Okay? _Please._ I’m on my knees _begging_ you to do this for me.’  
  
Seunghyun releases a drawn-out sigh that makes Jiyong frown but he knows it will be worth it when the time comes.  
  
‘Fuck,’ Seunghyun whispers. ‘_Fine._ I’ll be there at seven and I’ll find a way to ‘dress up.’  
  
Seunghyun hangs up first, sounding a little curious but mostly pissed off and tired. It’s almost midday now and Jiyong is sympathetic to his plight. But, he has enough on his own plate to worry too much about it. He heads back into the bathroom and apologises to Taehyun, saying he has to make a quick call. Then, he locks himself in his bedroom and calls Gee-eun in desperation.  
  
Without giving anything away, he begs her to find Seunghyun a suit that will fit him. He describes what he needs and how quickly and after begging and pleading at an almost _hysterical_ level, she promises to do her best and have something sent to him within the next three hours.  
  
Gee-eun is another person close to him that he’s withdrawn from since moving to Inje. The readiness with which she and Taehyun have dropped everything to help him, despite not seeing him in months, reminds him of his old community and how desperately he misses being surrounded by loving friends.  
  
When he finally sits back down in the bathroom, Taehyun looks at him in a curious way and he is all too aware that she probably heard every piece of conversation. That thought doesn’t make him feel nervous or sick or exposed. Only guilty that he hasn’t told her yet and won’t for a few weeks longer.  
  
While she puts some discrete make-up on him, he smells her perfume and sees her necklace dangling in front of him and their physical closeness makes him want to promise other kinds.  
  
‘I can’t tell you what’s really going on today,’ he says, emotion creeping into his voice. ‘But it’s an important day for me. I want you to know how much it means to me that you’re here’. She doesn’t answer but he doesn’t feel uncomfortable. ‘In a few weeks, I’d like to tell you everything. I just can’t do it today because--- someone else should be here when I do tell you. I know you’ll forgive me when the time comes.’  
  
She doesn’t answer but when she moves back, he sees a complaisant smile on her face. She hasn’t figured out the truth from the few haphazard clues, and she doesn’t begrudge not knowing. She is happy to wait for answers, or to never get them. She just wants his happiness.  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
  
When he heads downstairs with his hair and face made up, Dami spots him and her face crumples for a moment, like a mother seeing her daughter in _the_ wedding dress. Her quick emotions threaten to set him off too and he emotionally tells her to fuck off while he tries not to cry. He has discrete eye make-up on now. He doesn’t have time to re-do it if he cries it all off his face.  
  
He says a tender and loving goodbye to Taehyun and walks her to her car. That she would drive all the way out here just to do his hair for some mystery event? He couldn’t be more grateful. He makes sincere promises to see her more often and thanks her a thousand times over, still yelling his gratitude while the car disappears down the other end of the street.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
Back inside, he can see the work his family has been doing in his absence. The house has been transformed. The beauty of earlier has been compounded and perfected and despite so much of this being born from his imagination, he could never had pictured it this well. There are even more discrete lights strategically placed to create the impression of some magical forest realm. He originally imagined some clean Scandinavian, nature-inspired simplicity but his family has turned that vision into something deeper. He loves it.  
  
Outside, the wedding arch is finally completed. The outdoor heaters are in place. He can finally see the final product. The final space. This is the exact place he will marry Seunghyun in a few hours time. His eyes water and he curses when he realises. He pats his eye to make sure his make-up hasn’t moved. Since the moment he woke up, he has been emotional. He has cried several times to varying degrees and is ready to cry at again at_ any_ moment.  
  
Dami finds him a few minutes later and tugs his arm to lead him upstairs. In the closet of a spare bedroom, she pulls out a black garment bag. The look on her face is a strange blend of hysterical excitement and tender sentimentality. It’s almost unsettling. Delicately, she lays the bag on the bed and unzips it.  
  
Jiyong takes a step closer and touches the fabric in wonder. It takes him a moment to understand what it is. It’s a sky blue suit. The colour is so similar to suits he’s worn in the past. At first, he mistakes it for one of them, something pulled out of his closet, but as he runs his fingers down one of the lapels, he finds faint embroidery on the pocket. It’s a little white daisy. He looks more closely and then finds ever so faintly, only the slightest grade darker than the colour of the suit, embroidered words running down the lapel, past the pocket and buttons, all the way to the bottom of the jacket. One neat line of cursive.  
  
He has to move his face within inches of the writing to decipher it, but when he does, his face crumples and he sucks in a sharp breath.  
  
_The flowers have bloomed.  
_  
‘What on Earth—’ he whispers emotionally.  
  
‘It’s a little weird, I know,’ she answers tenderly. ‘It just seemed like a nice sentiment that’s followed you around. Appropriate too. I thought it would be nice to sew it into your suit’.  
  
‘_My_—_suit?’  
_  
‘You don’t have to wear this if you don’t want to,’ she says quickly. She pulls the suit out of the garment bag. ‘But you’ve always looked so good in this colour. And I know your measurements so a few weeks ago when you came up with this idea, I made this suit for you, just in case everything went ahead.’  
  
Jiyong’s mouth drops open and he is genuinely lost for words. He looks at the suit in her hands and he struggles to comprehend that aside from being his confidante and cheerleader, she has also supplemented and elevated his wedding, organised details he never considered and--- hand made a wedding suit.  
  
‘You _made_ this for me?’ he asks emotionally, eyes clouding with tears.  
  
‘Of course. What’s the point in being a designer if I can’t do this for you? Of course, if you don’t like it or it doesn’t fit, we can save it for another occasion.’  
  
He takes it out of her hands and whispers a quiet, emotional thank-you. He sincerely can’t thank her properly because his words are stuck in his throat. This gesture overwhelms him. This is more than he could have expected in one hundred lifetimes.  
  
‘Let’s try it on,’ he says quietly.  
  
  
*  
  
  
It fits like a glove. It is the exact style of suit he likes, the exact fit that makes him most comfortable. It is sewn to perfection. Every inch of it is perfect. Dami stands in his bedroom and makes him try on three t-shirts underneath before adding and taking off accessories to complete the look. Finally, she stands back a few feet and appraises him warmly.  
  
‘I think this is it,’ she says.  
  
She makes him close his eyes and positions him in front of a floor length mirror. When he sees himself, he is shocked.  
  
He barely recognises himself. The suit fits him perfectly. Dami was right when she said the colour suits him. Underneath the jacket, he has on a white shirt with a black necklace. It’s casual but still formal and elegant. It makes him look brighter and younger. Seeing his reflection as it is, he feels that way too. Lighter somehow. In the mirror is a version of himself who has never had to hide who he is, who has never suffered and wished for a different life. In the mirror is a version of himself who has only known compassion and empathy and good times.  
  
The man in the mirror looks like a better version of himself and for a moment Jiyong feels a pang of bitterness at all the easier roads he might have walked to get here. But then he realizes the man in the mirror is who he _is _now. This isn’t him in a parallel universe, but him as he is _now_. Kwon Jiyong, about to marry Choi Seunghyun after fifteen years of loving him and being grateful for the chance.  
  
Despite his effort not to, a few tears roll down his cheeks. He is getting married in a few hours, whether they sign the piece of paper or not. The enormity of what he is about to do overwhelms him. He still hasn’t written his vows. Seunghyun’s parents will arrive in two hours and Seunghyun in six.  
  
His hands shake and his stomach aches in anticipation. Staring at his own reflection, he falls apart and _cries_. Dami doesn’t help at all because she cries along with him and in her gentle embrace, he tries to find the words to thank her for this gift. To thank her for accepting him from the moment he opened up to her. For being his confidant. For being his champion. For making this wedding so beautiful. For believing in him and his happiness. For being his _sister._  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
The next two hours go by in a blur. Dami tries to explain the music to him and the lighting cues. Jiyong does his best to listen to what she’s saying to him, but his mind goes blank. He moves around the house like he is watching himself from a distance.  
  
They are running through a rehearsal _of _the rehearsal when the doorbell rings and Jiyong looks at the time in shock. It is 3:10 in the afternoon. Still, watching the scene from some place far up above, he answers the front door and finds Seunghyun’s formidable parents standing in front of him. Behind them is Seunghyun’s sister and her husband. Jiyong’s stomach flips at the sight of them and his knees go weak. As the hour drew closer, he has felt overwhelmingly ill. He is nauseous and clammy.  
  
‘Mr and Mrs. Choi,’ he stutters. ‘I’m so glad to see you—to--- welcome you to--- um--- please come in’. He stands back and extends an arm out and to his eternal amazement and gratitude, Dami and his own parents rush into the vacuum and whisk them deep into the house until he is left alone with Seunghyun’s sister.  
  
She looks at him sympathetically but well-meaning. She lays a hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. They have never known each other well, but this means something to him.  
  
In the kitchen, where his mother is making tea for Seunghyun’s parents, the atmosphere is strained and awkward and Jiyong doesn’t know the etiquette for this situation. In his surmounting stress, he becomes inwardly hysterical. Whose _idea _was this? To push a wedding so adamantly and so suddenly that Seunghyun’s parents are here like hostages in a bank robbery?  
  
To their credit, they do their best to be personable, which for them isn’t a lot and involves a lot of silence, but they are making an effort and Jiyong wonders if he should speak to them alone.  
  
‘Would you like me to show you around?’ he asks quietly. ‘Would you like to see our home? Or would you rather Seunghyun give you a tour?’  
  
They hesitate for so long, Jiyong regrets asking. Eventually, Seunghyun’s sister accepts the offer for all of them. So, with tiny cups of tea in hand, they take the tour. Jiyong leaves his body so an alien version of himself can show them around the home he and Seunghyun have shared together for the last twelve months. It’s a bit strange with the downstairs area looking like a forest, but he tries to describe the way it is normally.  
  
He takes care to point out things in the house which belong to Seunghyun, which Seunghyun has chosen to take pride and place. The things he takes pride in. Paintings and other art pieces, sentimental knick knacks etc. He points out a few sentimental objects until he feels like a museum tour guide trying to excite bored children.  
  
Still, he perseveres and shows them family photos in a hallway and it’s here that Seunghyun’s mother shows a ripple of emotion. Seeing her own face on the wall of her son’s home has made an impact. Photos of Seunghyun’s family intermingle with pictures of his own and Jiyong hopes in some small way, this opens her mind to the future and the possibility that they can be an extended family some day.  
  
He doesn’t show them the bedroom he and Seunghyun share, and he alludes to the closed door only briefly. But, he stops at the two newly outfitted bedrooms upstairs.  
  
‘I don’t know if you’ve made accommodation plans,’ he asks them, ‘but I’ve prepared two extra spare rooms for you all, in case you want to stay with us. You would be welcome. I--- I think Seunghyun would like that. But um—it’s up to you of course. I just wanted you to know that you’re welcome here. Always.’  
  
Hyeyoon thanks him on everyone’s behalf but nobody makes a commitment either way.  
  
The rest of the tour maintains the same level of awkwardness. Jiyong shows them through the little wedding set-up and the outdoor area, and takes them on an exceptionally brief tour of the property. He is still in his wedding trousers and doesn’t want to get them dirty. Hyeyoon’s husband asks affable questions and keeps a façade of conversation going. He asks about the pizza oven outside and Jiyong relates a brief story about the one and only time they used it, which ended with Seunghyun burning one pizza to a literal crisp and dropping the other one on the tiles before hurling the pizza paddle into the woods. Neither of Seunghyun’s parents laugh at this anecdote but the others do.  
  
When Jiyong leads them back inside, they re-join his own family and Seunghyun’s mother says quietly and politely that the actual wedding set up looks ‘nice’. Jiyong watches his own mother swoop in at this point and take over, trying to create a light and warm atmosphere to make everyone comfortable.  
  
He excuses himself and retreats to the lounge-room to finish the rehearsal of the rehearsal. At this point, his mind really drifts and swirls and stops and starts in an alienating way. Time rushes past him and he never feels fully present. Still, he understands the plan he and Dami eventually settle on. Seunghyun will come in through the front door. The small light above the landing will be on but the rest of the house will be in darkness so Seunghyun won’t see any of the wedding props. Then, Jiyong will ask if Seunghyun is willing to get married on the spot, and if all goes well, Dami, inconspicuously hiding close by, will flick on the lights and the music. The path of fairy lights will light up in the darkness and they will walk through their romantic little scene together until they hit the outside, where the lights will have been flicked on by Dami and the same music will be filtering through the speakers on the patio. Parents. Families. Tears. Job done.  
  
Except for the vows that he still hasn’t written.  
  
Knowing he hasn’t written anything makes him feel queasy and Dami has to help touch up his make-up in the bedroom because what he hasn’t cried off has been sweat off from anxiety.  
  
‘I don’t have any vows.’  
  
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she reassures him. ‘Just speak from the heart.’  
  
‘What if I can’t? _Fuck.’  
_  
‘Jiyong, whatever you say will be perfect. Everything will be perfect.’  
  


  
  


* * *  
  
  
  


  
In the two hours before Seunghyun arrives home, Jiyong has a panic attack, cries once more, manages to do a rehearsal with both families so everyone knows what is expected and then spends fifteen minutes sitting on the lid of the ensuite toilet trying not to throw up.  
  
It shocks him the way his stomach twists and his heart races. He has performed in front of tens of thousands of people. Never in his life has he felt this nervous. He has never been so anxious in his _life._ Dami has to waste precious time fanning his face like a personal assistant, whispering encouragements to calm him down.  
  
He is about to get _married_ if Seunghyun says yes. Married. Actually married. Even without a piece of paper, this marriage will be _real _to him. Not some forgotten and distant dream he gave up on a decade ago when he realised Seunghyun was the end of the line. He never let himself believe in this. He spent so many years telling himself this wasn’t possible. It makes his head spin to know otherwise.  
  
He should be panicking more about Seunghyun’s family and his own and the insanity and impossibility that they are all downstairs to witness this. But as the minutes tick by, he forgets about all of them. They disappear. All he can think about is Seunghyun and what he’ll say to him when they’re standing beneath the arch on his patio.  
  
At 6:30, Dami races around hiding everyone’s cars and sends a message from Jiyong’s phone telling Seunghyun he has to park out the front and enter through the front door. If he comes through the garage, he’ll fuck the whole thing up.  
  
Then, Jiyong is in his sky blue wedding suit, standing in the dark near his own front door, waiting to hear the sound of tyres on gravel. Time has picked him up and hurled him forward. Standing with baited breath, the past few hours don’t seem real to him. He can barely remember anything. He is hardly aware of the bodies hiding in the dark on the patio or his own sister hiding behind some imitation plants so she can turn on the lights. None of it is real.  
  
Then, he hears tyres and his heart pounds in his chest and his own breathing is so loud he can’t hear anything else. There is a key in the lock and his fingers ache.  
  
_Seunghyun._  
  
Suddenly, Seunghyun is standing in front of him on the landing inside the door and he looks incredible_._ The light above them frames his head like a crown and Seunghyun has never felt so real or looked so handsome. He is wearing a sleek black suit that fits him perfectly and his hair has been coiffed up the way he used to style it. He has done exactly what Jiyong asked him to. He has dressed up. Now, Jiyong is more certain than ever that it wouldn’t matter if he hadn’t.  
  
Seunghyun leans the painting against the wall inside the door. It’s wrapped in brown paper, so Jiyong can’t see it but he isn’t looking anyway. He is staring at the love of his life looking like a million fucking dollars.  
  
Seunghyun closes the front door and looks bemused by the darkness, looking up at the single dim light above them, but his eyes adjust and when he sees Jiyong, he really _sees_ him. Seunghyun takes a step back and looks Jiyong up and down, his mouth wide open in surprise. He appraises him. God knows, they haven’t seen each other dressed up in a while. Their spaghetti date a few nights ago when they put on clean shirts is as close as they’ve come to glamour in months.  
  
_‘Wow,’_ Seunghyun says, awed. ‘You look _fantastic._ Are we going to the Opera?’  
  
The tone in his voice and the look on his face show all trace of his earlier frustrations have melted away. Still, Jiyong’s hands shake and a nervous breath escapes him. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to _do_ this. Seunghyun takes it out of his hands by speaking first.  
  
‘Before we go wherever we’re going, I have a surprise for _you.’  
_  
Of course Seunghyun thinks they’re _going_ somewhere. Asking him to dress up, all the lights being off, the strict timing. Word of a surprise makes Jiyong’s eyes widen.  
  
‘The painting?’  
  
‘Oh_, no.’_ The painting is already forgotten behind the door. Seunghyun has put the source of his weekend’s misery out of his mind entirely. He pulls a small envelope from the inside of his suit jacket and holds it between them. Jiyong reaches for it but Seunghyun hesitates. He almost withdraws it before letting Jiyong take it.  
  
‘Now that I’m giving it to you, I hope this wasn’t a huge mistake. I should have asked you first. I know it’s wrong to do this sort of thing without you, but it seemed like a good idea at the time,’ Seunghyun says, concerned.  
  
Jiyong’s flips the envelope over, pulling out a small folded piece of paper. When he opens it, something falls out and drifts gently to the floor. He bends to pick it up and finds a photograph. Standing back up, his lips part at the realization of what this is.  
  
‘I saw her the other day and had a feeling she belonged to you,’ Seunghyun says. ‘I put a deposit down.’  
  
It’s a cat. It’s a _cat _and she’s _beautiful_. She’s a chimera, her face split down the middle into two distinct colours. The left side grey, the right side black. Her eyes, two different colours. She is fluffy and gorgeous and happy. A beautiful blend. On the sheet of paper are details of its birth and the results of an initial vet visit.  
  
‘Apparently they’re rare,’ Seunghyun says quietly. ‘Like you.’  
  
Jiyong’s heart aches as he touches the photograph. He is filled with that same instantaneous love and devotion he felt when he first saw his last cat. He has the _same_ feeling like they already know each other, like their future is already assured.  
  
‘We’re adopting a cat?’ Jiyong asks emotionally.  
  
Seunghyun shuffles awkwardly and shrugs.  
  
‘If you want her. I thought we could extend the family,’ he says clumsily. ‘We could use a woman in the house and I _know_ you miss your old cat. Maybe it’s just time we adopt something together. While Youngbae buys baby clothes for Iseul, we can try to shove baby socks on a cat. It’s kind of the same thing.’  
  
He says it quickly, like he’s wracked with embarrassment, as if he's done the wrong thing.  
  
‘We can pick her up in a few weeks,’ he says shyly. ‘She’s too young yet.’  
  
A surprised noise leaches out of Jiyong’s throat and his eyes water because here he is, on the precipice of asking Seunghyun to marry him and the dickhead has sprung this on him first. A cat adoption? Seunghyun doesn’t even _like_ cats, but he knows Jiyong is becoming restless and the recent talks about never having kids have shaken them, so he has made this beautiful gesture as compensation. If this wasn’t their secret wedding day, this would be an enormous fucking deal.  
  
Jiyong struggles to clear his throat and he nods gratefully, eyes watering. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and trembling. He can’t make it any stronger.  
  
‘Wow. Yes. Absolutely _yes,_ I want this cat. Seunghyun--- I ----’  
  
Jiyong sniffs and tucks the envelope into his trouser pocket.  
  
_‘Thank-you so much.’_  
  
‘You don’t _look_ happy about it,’ Seunghyun answers, concerned. ‘What’s going on? Why are all the lights off anyway? Are you throwing a surprise party? Did I forget my own birthday?’  
  
Jiyong laughs quietly and shakes his head, sniffing again. He has to pull himself together.  
  
‘Not exactly. But I do have a surprise of my own.’  
  
‘It’s not a cat is it? That would be awkward.’  
  
Jiyong laughs again and some of his panic and anxiety finally begin to melt away because he fucking loves this man. This man who can make him laugh, even in the most anxiety filled moment of his life. Seunghyun will _always_ be that man.  
  
Jiyong musters up whatever bravery and courage is left in his body and he takes Seunghyun’s hands clutching them tightly in his own.  
  
‘It’s not a cat,’ Jiyong smiles, ‘but I want to talk to you for a minute and I need you to _listen.’  
_  
Seunghyun frowns, sincerely worried by the disturbing vibe of this emotional entreaty in the darkness, but he nods in agreement and Jiyong, who has prepared absolutely fucking nothing to say this entire night, says whatever comes into his head. He lowers his voice, cognizant of the fact there are seven people hiding on the patio who will probably hear every word. He squeezes Seunghyun’s fingers.  
  
‘I am so proud of you for opening up to your family and friends this year. For coming out. The past year has brought a lot of big changes to our lives, and most of them for the better. I feel like we’re getting closer to the people we’re supposed to be.’  
  
Seunghyun smiles and Jiyong continues.  
  
‘We haven’t really talked about this, but I’m almost ready to tell more people about us. I want the friends closest to us to know who we both are. I want to tell _Youngbae,’_ Jiyong says truthfully. ‘In a few months, anyway. I want him to focus on his family for a while before I make waves. In a few months, I think I’ll be ready to have some hard conversations.’  
  
Seunghyun is obviously confused but he nods patiently.  
  
‘_Of course.’  
_  
‘I hope, over time, we can tell all the people we care about who we really are,’ Jiyong says passionately. ‘I hope we get to _feel_ that together. When you proposed, you said you wanted us to get married because you wanted people to witness us. You wanted people to know who we are. I want that too,’ Jiyong says. ‘One day, I hope we get to have a dream wedding with fifty guests who know exactly who we are.’  
  
Seunghyun smiles but there’s a touch of sadness in it and Jiyong knows that his next sentiment is something Seunghyun agrees with too.  
  
‘The thought of waiting so long makes my entire body hurt.’  
  
They are on the same page with this distant longing they’ve both tried to repress. But tonight will be different. Jiyong squeezes Seunghyun’s fingers even tighter and takes a deep breath that doesn’t go unnoticed. In the darkness behind him, he can almost feel his sisters held breath.  
  
‘Do you still want to marry me someday?’ Jiyong asks.  
  
_‘Yes’._  
  
In this moment, it feels like Jiyong’s heart stops. He brings the back of Seunghyun’s hand to his lips and presses a gentle kiss against his skin.  
  
‘How about tonight?’  
  
He turns his head for the smallest second, a sign to his sister lurking in the darkness. When he makes eye contact with Seunghyun again, the lights behind him flick on and Seunghyun’s face illuminates before his eyes.  
  
Seunghyun is racked with confusion. He looks past Jiyong into the part of the lounge-room he can see. At all the greenery and the lights and the imitation forest now lingering where their couches used to be. He is dumbstruck.  
  
‘Is that _Dami?’_ he asks suddenly, face completely cracking in bewilderment. Seunghyun squeezes his hands and lowers his voice. ‘Your sister is here? What is this? What’s going on?’  
  
Jiyong laughs but it comes out a little hysterical and his voice cracks and trembles. Seunghyun hasn’t pieced it together yet, even after asking him if he wanted to get married tonight.  
  
‘I tricked you into going to Seoul,’ Jiyong confesses. ‘I never wanted that painting, I just needed an excuse to get you out of the house for two days because I was planning this.’  
  
Seunghyun’s lips part, still confused. Jiyong sees the machinations whirling in his brain.  
  
‘Seunghyun,’ Jiyong says confidently. ‘Will you _marry_ me? As in_ right now?’_  
  
Suddenly, the metaphorical lightbulb flashes above Seunghyun’s head. For a moment, he looks past Jiyong again into the forested lounge-room. He looks at the lights on the ground forming a path around the corner and his face immediately crumples. He finally gets it. His lips purse as he tries to stifle his own reaction.  
  
‘Your sister?’ Seunghyun whispers.  
  
‘Yeah. My parents are here too’.  
  
Seunghyun huffs loudly, this emotional exhale and his lip wobbles. When he speaks, his voice comes out broken.  
  
‘You want to get married in front of your family? _Right now?’  
_  
Jiyong nods his head furiously, not quite able to speak this time because he can see the wonder in Seunghyun’s face. The complete awe and love in his features. There is no disappointment or shock or surprise, just a complete willingness to fall into this headfirst. Seunghyun’s hands start to shake and Jiyong tries to still them with his own, holding onto him more tightly. The first tear rolls down Seunghyun’s cheek and his voice comes out unsteady but filled with love.  
  
‘I would _love_ to marry you tonight.’  
  
So, Jiyong laughs a hysterical laugh of relief and they share a trembling kiss by the door. Jiyong walks a few steps with Seunghyun into the lounge-room, holding hands. They step onto the beginning of the lit path and even Jiyong is swept away by how beautiful it all looks. How gorgeous and dreamlike the lights are against the darkness. They couldn’t _be_ in a more beautiful place. No place on Earth could have this same feeling of wonder and safety.  
  
Suddenly, music begins to play from speakers hidden here and there. It is unmistakably _walking down the aisle_ music and Seunghyun laughs emotionally, wiping his face. It’s now that he sees a shadow up ahead. The patio is still dark but he has seen someone there.  
  
Jiyong stops him. He faces him and digs his fingers into Seunghyun’s biceps to stress the seriousness of what he’s about to whisper.  
  
‘Seunghyun, your family is here too.’  
  
Seunghyun’s brow furrows in confusion, but Dami cues the lights outside and Seunghyun turns at the sudden brightness thirty feet away. From here, they can both see Seunghyun’s sister. Half of her anyway. Jiyong gently touches Seunghyun’s cheek and turns it back to him.  
  
‘My _sister_ is here?’ Seunghyun asks, dumbstruck.  
  
‘Yeah. And her husband,’ Jiyong smiles. ‘And your _parents_, Seunghyun. They’re both out there.’  
  
Seunghyun physically freezes. Some part of him switches off, unable to comprehend this sentence or this reality but Jiyong holds his face with both hands and draws him down so their faces are closer together and he makes sure Seunghyun knows he’s telling the truth.  
  
‘My mother?’  
  
_‘And_ your father,’ Jiyong answers.  
  
Seunghyun pulls away for a moment and turns back towards the door, spinning on his heel in complete shock, like he doesn’t know what to do or where to go. Then, in an instant, some part of him breaks down. A heart-rending sob escapes him and he slaps a hand over his mouth. His eyes fill with tears at double the speed and he_ shakes._  
  
Jiyong pulls him down into a loving hug, aware that they are now entirely heard and seen by at least _some _of their family. It doesn’t matter though. Only _he_ matters. He pulls Seunghyun’s face into his shoulder and lays a hand on the back of his head. He whispers into Seunghyun’s ear.  
  
‘They came here _for you_. They’re here to support you. To _see_ you. To watch you get married.’  
  
With his face buried in Jiyong’s shoulder, Seunghyun shakes his head in disbelief, like he refuses to believe this. After everything he’s been through lately, how could he not have doubts? To go from giving up on them entirely to have them appear out of nowhere, apparently willing to be there for him at last? How do you process that in such a short space of time?  
  
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,’ Jiyong whispers. ‘It happened so suddenly, I wanted to surprise you. I wanted this to be a happy memory. I believe they’re here for the right reasons, Seunghyun. That they want to be part of your life’.  
  
Seunghyun laughs soundlessly, Jiyong feels it against him. Then, Seunghyun pulls back with tears in his eyes and wet trails down his cheeks and he kisses Jiyong briefly on the lips.  
  
‘Will you be okay?’  
  
Jiyong wipes the tears from Seunghyun’s cheeks with gentle fingers and fixes a few loose hairs that have escaped his neatly manicured do.  
  
Seunghyun answers by shaking his head in disbelief, but Jiyong knows he can _do_ this. He is strong enough to balance his feelings. Hopefully later, this will be the good memory Jiyong wanted it to be. Maybe his parents have disregarded Seunghyun up to this point, but they won’t any longer. It stops here tonight. It _has_ to.  
  
They hold hands again and proceed slowly down the fairy lit path together. The music continues at the perfect volume, quiet enough that they can hear each other, but loud enough to mask their anxious breathing. They both look around in awe at the beauty created out of nothing and the blend of the greenery around them, interspersed with magical light and emotional music. It’s so simple but it’s _beautiful_ in its simplicity. It’s impossible to believe this is their house.  
  
Too soon, they are at the patio doors. They stop here for a moment, facing a wall of family. Seunghyun sees with his own two eyes that his parents _are _here and a sharp breath escapes him. For a moment he only stares at them in confusion, trying to read their motivation. Seunghyun’s hand tightens and loosens, debating whether to cause a scene. He begins to pull away and then changes his mind. For a moment, Jiyong can _feel_ Seunghyun’s disdain and anger at the audacity of his parents.  
  
Jiyong panics. Maybe it was a mistake inviting them here. Maybe the road to forgiveness _can’t_ start like this. Seunghyun’s anger and bitterness is justifiable. His parents have turned their back on him for months and now they are here, without saying a word to him. No apologies. No conversations. But Jiyong wants them to see this wedding and understand. Maybe then, they actually _will_ apologise and have a conversation.  
  
He smooths circles with his thumb on the back of Seunghyun’s hand, trying to keep him calm and focussed. Instead of letting his hurt get the best of him, Seunghyun lets his jumble of emotions settle.  
  
His mother smiles and nods and Seunghyun returns it. It’s a silent acknowledgement between them. He and his sister share a more tangible and emotional greeting. She smiles broadly and gestures emphatically, visibly happy for him.  
  
Courtesy of Dami, the music changes and the lighting does too. It becomes something more ethereal and delicate. Jiyong pulls Seunghyun beneath the wedding arch and Seunghyun laughs, marvelling at the twisted vines and flowers above them. He shakes his head in disbelief over and over. When his eyes land on Jiyong’s parents, they share such genuine smiles with each other.  
  
Seunghyun’s family is on one side of the arch, gathered around the standing table. Jiyong’s family is on the other side. Dami is the first to break the silence. Her voice is warm and stable and comforting and the moment she speaks, Jiyong’s throat dries up like he will cry.  
  
Dami looks at all of them in turn, the music playing behind her.  
  
‘We want to thank _everyone_ for coming tonight. We’re all here in this cosy space, to witness and congratulate and celebrate the life _these two_ have together,’ she gestures at them beneath the arch, their held hands still tightly together. Jiyong didn’t really discuss the whole celebrant aspect with her. She said she would wing it, that she would say a few words and give them the space to recite their vows. This evening is designed to be informal and intimate and it is--- but the seriousness and earnestness of her words surprises him. ‘None of us have known about this relationship for very long, but in the time I’ve had to catch up, I’ve been comforted and awed, _grateful_ that my brother will be safe and happy until he grows old and grey.’  
  
Seunghyun squeezes Jiyong’s fingers and Jiyong looks at the arch above him to keep tears from his eyes. Dami turns to face them again and looks warmly at Seunghyun.  
  
‘Before we go any further and we get things started, I just want to say a few words as Jiyong’s sister and Seunghyun’s _friend’._ She looks at Seunghyun intensely and says thank-you. ‘Thank-you for everything you’ve done for Jiyong and for our family. Thank-you for making him happy and keeping him safe up until now. Thank-you for making this family feel more complete. Thank-you for trusting _all of us_,’ she gestures to both families, ‘to know you and be here for you tonight.’  
  
Dami looks around as if opening the floor to opposition but all she gets in response are a blend of loving smiles from one quarter and awkward muted smiles from Seunghyun’s parents. If there were more people here, they would undoubtedly feel more comfortable and less exposed, but it’s not possible. Jiyong can see they’re trying. They really do _want _to be in Seunghyun’s life. They don’t want to be closed out.  
  
‘This is obviously a _very_ informal ceremony,’ Dami tells them all. ‘Not legally binding, this isn’t a paper marriage but an emotional one. So, I think we’ll let tonight unfold naturally. Seunghyun, I know you didn’t get a chance to write any vows because we _sprung_ this wedding on you. Jiyong, I know you’ve struggled as well because you’re a perfectionist. So, I have a gift for both of you to get things started. It isn’t perfect because I didn’t have a lot of time, but I’ve put something together for both of you. Maybe, it will help with the vows you’re going to share with each other.’  
  
Dami looks warmly around the space to make sure everyone is still with her, and Jiyong is confused. Seunghyun obviously is too, but Jiyong attributes that to his ongoing shock at being a surprise guest at his own wedding. He wonders how present Seunghyun actually _is_ right now or if his head is spinning too much for him to process this.  
  
To the right of them, Dami climbs precariously onto a stool and yanks on a cord, unravelling a projector screen that was attached to the lattice above them.  
  
_‘What the—’_ Jiyong watches in amazement. He can see now, a projector precariously balanced on the other side of the patio. The last few hours have felt like such a blur, he never saw anything out here.  
  
A moment later, the lights are dimmed, the projector lights up, and music filters from the speakers above them. On the screen, a video fades in and Jiyong’s eyes widen in amazement as the picture clears. From the speakers above him, his father’s tinny voice says _‘that’s Jiyong out there with his new friend’_. So blurry he can barely recognise himself, the footage has been shot through a window. A younger version of himself is on the street by his driveway and next to him he recognises the back of a younger Seunghyun. Back when they were still dressing like 90’s West Coast rappers. He never knew this video existed.  
  
_‘Oh my God.’_  
  
He looks at Seunghyun who looks equally surprised and amazed. Jiyong’s family had moved house around this time. His father had bought a new video camera. He must have been filming the new house and for five seconds, turned the camera on _him_ through the window. The footage plays back a second time in slow motion and Jiyong’s heart pounds in his chest, unable to look away. This has to be the first record of he and Seunghyun knowing each other. So early into their friendship, there couldn’t be anything before this. This is literally footage of their _very_ beginning. He can’t understand how this exists or how Dami could have it, how anyone could have found this or realized its significance?  
  
The video quickly fades out and new images replace it, some photographs, some videos, all clips and photos of he and Seunghyun together. This is a slideshow version of the photo album he gave to Seunghyun’s parents except there is _so much more_ in this. There are photos and videos they took of each other as friends, as more than friends, photos and videos from concerts and official media woven through it to capture a broad picture of their lives.  
  
Jiyong’s eyes fill with tears, like his life is flashing before his eyes. It’s sentimental and emotional, bittersweet to watch himself grow old on screen. To revisit the past, back when they were wide-eyed and full of hope, nursing feelings for each other they couldn’t figure out. It’s happy _and_ sad to watch their relationship evolve over time, knowing they can never go back to the beginning. They’ll never again experience that maelstrom of becoming an adult, becoming famous and falling in love all at once. So many beautiful times are behind them. Even knowing they have more moments ahead of them, it’s hard not to feel a pang.  
  
As the slideshow goes on and they move closer to the present, a tear rolls down Jiyong’s cheek but he can’t wipe it away because his eyes are locked on footage he has never shown _anyone._ On the screen, private moments from his and Seunghyun’s life roll one after another and he doesn’t understand how Dami got these videos.  
  
On screen, Seunghyun sneaks up behind him, phone in hand, and drops ice-cubes down the back of his shirt. Jiyong watches himself jump and yelp and curse on screen before irritation morphs into a sly smile. In the video, he warns Seunghyun, ‘_Oh, big mistake._’ In the next clip_, _Seunghyun walks through a door in his apartment and flour rains down on him from above. Through the tinny speakers, Jiyong laughs his ass off as a shocked Seunghyun wipes flour from his eyes.  
  
These are videos from two or three years ago, when they were very much too old for a prank war, but when they were both under a huge amount of stress and had to find ways of having fun. For a few weeks, while they both struggled with crippling depression, they found it funny to torture each other with juvenile high school pranks. Every now and then anyway.  
  
But these are clips from his own phone _and_ Seunghyun’s. How could Dami have these? _Any _of them?  
  
On screen, the videos move away from their childish antics and Jiyong is touched to see himself sleeping on screen. His old cat, close to the end of her life, is curled up on his sleeping chest. Seunghyun zooms in a little and his contented voice rises behind his phone. _‘Cute’._  
  
After this, there are only photos. There must be a hundred photos from the last year and a half alone. Photos from Seoul, photos of themselves during the move, while rearranging the new house, Seunghyun in the greenhouse holding dead plants. Photo after photo of them together, blissfully and obviously _happy_. Jiyong is shocked by how many photos they’ve taken together and _of_ one another. They have so many mementos of each other and their life.  
  
When the images fade out, a few minutes after they began, Jiyong’s face is wet and he shakes his head in disbelief, looking at Dami in awe. He’s about to ask how she _made_ this, how she got all of these photographs and videos, but she points to the screen and Jiyong turns. Fading in from the blackness is footage of Seunghyun sitting in a chair. He recognises the background. This was shot in Dami’s office.  
  
The real Seunghyun shifts his weight beside him and makes a sound of dismay.  
  
‘Dami! You said this was for our anniversary, not---’_  
  
_‘I lied,’ she answers with a shrug.  
  
Jiyong looks between them searchingly, wondering what the hell is going on, before looking back at the screen. The Seunghyun in the footage looks uncomfortable, visibly anxious.  
  
‘Calm down, you’re not being tortured,’ Dami’s voice comes through the speakers.  
_  
_‘Interrogated?’  
  
_‘Encouraged’._  
  
The Seunghyun in the footage scoffs and digs his thumb into his palm. He bites his lip in a nervous gesture. It’s anxiety that Jiyong hasn’t seen in him for months. But this looks recent.  
  
‘What do you like about Jiyong?’ Dami asks behind the camera. ‘What is it about him that made you propose?’  
  
Seunghyun in the video looks aggrieved and puffs his cheeks out before exhaling slowly, overwhelmed. He is being put on the spot and he cracks under pressure.  
  
‘This feels like a job interview. How am I supposed to answer that?’  
  
‘Alright,’ Movie-Dami answers patiently. ‘We’ll ease into it. Tell me something else. Tell me when you first knew you _liked_ him.’_  
_  
‘As a friend?’  
  
‘No’.  
  
Movie-Seunghyun fidgets hopelessly on screen.  
  
‘I don’t remember the exact moment,’ he says eventually. ‘I think I probably always liked him in that way. I just didn’t want to think about it, or I didn’t understand it. Looking back, I think I always _liked_ him.’  
  
Jiyong’s jaw drops in comprehension. Dami has goaded Seunghyun into saying nice things about him on film. But why? Was this really for their anniversary or did she do this recently so this video could take the place of Seunghyun’s vows? Either answer touches him. He smiles at Seunghyun’s figure in the footage.  
  
‘Why did you like him? Dami asks.  
  
Movie-Seunghyun shrugs.  
  
‘I guess because he made me feel better than I was. He was a good _friend_. And he was talented and had a lot of energy. He was excited about the future and I wasn’t any of those things. I liked being exposed to all those traits I didn’t have.’  
  
‘That’s not very personal.’  
  
‘Does it have to be?’ Movie-Seunghyun answers. ‘I was a teenager. He made me feel like a better person by proxy. Isn’t that enough reason to like somebody?’ When Dami doesn’t answer, Seunghyun visibly blushes and bites his lip. ‘_Okay_. I um--- made excuses for us to spend more time together. How’s that? I would hang around the places I knew he went, hoping to see him. When I knew I _wouldn’t_ see him, I was always put out. It kind of made me miserable knowing he wouldn’t be a part of my day or week sometimes. He was always busy.’  
  
Dami must pull a face behind the camera because movie-Seunghyun rolls his eyes on screen, embarrassed by this confession.  
  
‘I always thought of him as a friend, but as an adult looking back, I guess I can see that maybe I liked him in a _different_ way. I just didn’t know how to process it at the time.’  
  
‘That’s cute,’ Dami answers.  
  
In the real world, on the patio in the darkness, Jiyong bites his lip. Seunghyun has never said this to him before. Hearing that Seunghyun may have had some feelings _before_ their first kiss is sweet and unexpected.  
  
In the video, Dami continues her questioning.  
  
‘After your first kiss, what was running through your head? Did you know he was the one?’  
  
Seunghyun on screen covers his cheeks with his hands, visibly embarrassed.  
  
‘No,’ he answers honestly. ‘_Nothing_ was running through my head when we first kissed. I really didn’t think about it afterwards. It just happened and when it was over, I didn’t dwell on it. I forgot about it. It didn’t affect my life in any way.’  
  
‘That sounds _horrible.’_  
  
‘It wasn’t,’ Seunghyun stresses. ‘It _should_ have bothered me. I was young. I was starting to wonder why I didn’t care about the girls I was seeing. Kissing Jiyong should have stressed me out or made me feel guilty or sent me into a panic but it didn’t. There were no negative feelings attached to it at all.’  
  
‘I guess that’s … nice.’  
  
Seunghyun in the footage actually laughs quietly and shakes his head in disbelief. For a moment, he looks eager to talk. More animated and free.  
  
‘I will _never_ understand how Jiyong and I got together. Looking back, it’s _crazy _that we made it. We slid into a relationship without ever talking about it.’  
  
‘What do you mean?’  
  
‘We had our first kiss and never talked about it,’ Seunghyun answers in the footage. ‘It was completely spontaneous and we _never_ spoke about it. And it didn’t _change_ anything between us. It should have. Jiyong had a girlfriend at the time and so did I. A spontaneous and kind of intense kiss should have had repercussions, but it didn’t’.  
  
‘That is a little strange’.  
  
‘It got stranger,’ Seunghyun says animatedly. ‘Because a few weeks after that, we kissed each other again and it was the same story. And then it happened again. And again. And again. And then we started hugging each other and holding each other’s hands under tables and lying awfully close to each other during movies. We started kissing on beds and in cars and in bathrooms and things just kept on going without us ever talking about it. Do you believe that? We never _ever_ talked about it. Not one time did either of us start a conversation.’  
  
‘What?’  
  
Seunghyun shrugs, enjoying their ludicrous backstory.  
  
‘This went on for over a year until we were at the point where if we were alone and we saw each other, we would automatically kiss or hold hands or do some couple stuff together. Meanwhile, Jiyong still had a girlfriend and neither of us thought that our situation had anything to do with the fact he was dating somebody.’  
  
‘That’s awful_,’_ Dami answers. ‘Tell me he broke up with her _nicely_ and you got your act together.’  
  
‘Sure, he broke up with her. But it didn’t change anything for _us_. We kept going along as we were. We spent all of our time together. Over two years, our relationship completely changed but we still didn’t talk about it because it felt natural and normal and there was never a point where I thought we _needed_ to discuss it. So, kissing turned into more than that and off we went. Boyfriends without ever saying a word about it.’  
  
‘That’s insane.’  
  
‘I know,’ Seunghyun smiles, folding his arms across his chest. ‘You know, I knew I loved him a few weeks before I told him so. But even _that_ never seemed like a big thing or like something I had to talk about or agonise over. I just told him I loved him one night and I didn’t worry about it. I _knew_ he would say it back. I knew everything already. Nothing in our relationship ever felt like a surprise. It was like we had done it all already and fallen back into the groove. It always felt right. There were no surprises,’ he says. ‘Our relationship is the one thing in my life that has never been hard. It has always felt right and because I have this _one thing_ that’s right, that makes everything else easier.’  
  
Dami exhales behind the camera like she isn’t sure what to ask next. Seunghyun’s bizarre story has thrown her through a loop, but uncharacteristically, Seunghyun continues unprompted. He has a warm smile on his face and he leans forward in his chair.  
  
‘Have you heard of Aristophanes?’ Seunghyun asks.  
  
‘Why?’  
  
‘He had this theory about soulmates and about romantic love. He had this belief that once upon a time, human beings took a different form. We had two heads, four arms, four legs. We were _whole,_’ Seunghyun says excitedly. ‘But we grew too powerful, and the God’s became _afraid_ of our power, so Zeus split each of us in half. And we were all miserable forevermore, desperately searching for our other halves so we could put ourselves back together.’  
  
The Seunghyun in the footage leans back in his chair with a contented look on his face. His anxiety from being put on the spot earlier, all but gone.  
  
‘Jiyong is my other half,’ Seunghyun says simply. ‘And when I found him, that was it. Whole again. _Kismet.’  
_  
In the real world, an ugly little sob passes Jiyong’s lips and he shakes his hand free of Seunghyun’s so he can plaster his hands over his mouth. His cheeks are wet and his eyes sting.  
  
In the footage, Dami speaks again.  
  
‘I guess that answers my question.’  
  
‘What did you ask me? What do I _like_ about him? Why did I propose?’ Seunghyun asks. ‘Yeah. I guess that’s my answer. I love him and he makes my life better. It’s not that complicated.’  
  
‘Well, why don’t we finish with you saying something to Jiyong directly then? Look straight down the lens and say something’.  
  
Seunghyun in the footage does as instructed and looks directly at the camera. Less animated than before, his simple words are still full of tenderness.  
  
‘I love you,’ Seunghyun says. ‘So much so that I let your sister kidnap me and _force_ me into saying nice things about you on camera.’  
  
_‘Forced?’_  
  
Seunghyun smiles and picks a bottle of water up off the ground. He unscrews the lid and looks down the lense again before doing a toast and taking a swig.  
  
‘Here’s to another fifty years.’  
  
Then, he stands up and for a moment only his legs are visible. Characteristically, he approaches the camera and leans down, pulling a garish face an inch from the camera. He makes an ugly face and a sound like a monster and finishes with a peck.  
  
_‘Happy Anniversary’.  
_  
The video fades to black and the patio lights brighten. Jiyong hears a few sniffs but he can only look at Seunghyun with big eyes, stunned.  
  
‘Kismet?’ Jiyong whispers.  
  
‘Big time’.  
  
Seunghyun, who has wet eyes of his own, leans down for a chaste peck. They both wipe their eyes at the same time and give joint applause to Dami.  
  
‘How did you _do_ this?’ Jiyong asks her. ‘How did you get all of this footage?’  
  
Dami clears her throat, her own video making her emotional.  
  
‘I really did have a plan to do this for your anniversary so two or three months ago, before this wedding was even an idea, I asked Seunghyun for some videos and photos that I could turn into a slideshow. I think he included a few videos off your cloud. The Q&A was self-explanatory. I told him it was for your anniversary and that he had to say nice things about you.’  
  
Jiyong laughs quietly and sees his parent’s eyes glistening off to the side. His father has such a tender look on his face, it shocks him. From the corner of his eye, he sees Seunghyun’s mother with a tissue in her hand. Seunghyun looks over at his family too, to gauge their reaction. There is emotion there but it’s a little weird and restrained. Jiyong catches the brief moment of disappointment on Seunghyun’s face before he shakes it off.  
  
‘Thank-you,’ he tells Dami.  
  
‘I knew you wouldn’t have any vows prepared. I thought this might do.’  
  
Seunghyun nods and raises his voice so everyone can hear him clearly.  
  
‘This _is _unexpected_,_’ he says awkwardly, eyes settling on Jiyong. ‘Never in a thousand years did I _ever_ think we would do this. As much as I hoped we could, it’s been hard to imagine it’. His voice breaks a little and his eyes water anew. ‘God, I was so fucking frustrated in the city. I was so _annoyed _with you for sending me to get that stupid painting,’ Seunghyun laughs and cries at the same time. ‘And the whole time you were doing this?’ He gestures at the arch above them.  
  
Jiyong wants to say something but he’s choked up. Nothing comes out, so he just smiles and shrugs. Seunghyun looks back at his parents and his sister, and Jiyong sees something in his face like determination.  
  
‘It’s true, I don’t have any vows prepared,’ he takes Jiyong’s hands in his. ‘But I’d like to say a few things anyway. I don’t know if I’m awake or dreaming right now, but if this _is_ real, there are some things I should say. Things I want _everyone_ standing here to hear’.  
  
Jiyong smiles and something passes between them in silence. He sees a window opening in Seunghyun. A chance for catharsis. A chance to be _exactly_ who he is in front of people who love him, and the people who haven’t yet learned to love all of him. Jiyong is surprised. He expected the evening to be a beautiful but brief gesture. He would recite his vows and heap love on Seunghyun and they would all get drunk and go to bed. He never really imagined Seunghyun speaking or being the one to do it first.  
  
Seunghyun squeezes Jiyong’s fingers and they look at each other through wet eyes. Though his words are for everyone, he doesn’t look away for a second. They don’t break eye contact.  
  
‘For starters, you look fucking beautiful,’ he says warmly. ‘You _always_ look beautiful to me but tonight especially.’  
  
Jiyong laughs but his lip shakes in anticipation. He is a dam ready to burst. If Seunghyun cracks some jokes, maybe he can survive the night without crying mascara down his face.  
  
‘I don’t know where to begin,’ Seunghyun stutters. ‘I know what I want to say but I don’t know how to say it. It seemed easier in the video just now.’  
  
Jiyong smiles sympathetically. Seunghyun has never been a public speaker, least of all when it came to his parents. He always struggled to be open with them but now he has a chance to change that.  
  
‘Everything I said in that video was true,’ Seunghyun says. ‘Though it sounds selfish when I hear myself saying it like that. That I love you because you make my life better? Is that about you or me?’ He clears his throat, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. ‘Do I love you because of who you are or because of who you’ve changed _me _into? Does it matter? I don’t know. It feels like love. Fifteen years has to mean something, right?’  
  
Jiyong squeezes Seunghyun’s hands, recognising in him now the same overthinking that has plagued him all his life.  
  
‘Maybe I’ll just talk about me,’ Seunghyun shrugs. ‘Who do I know better than me? _Now,_ anyway. It was different when I was younger. I was miserable. I spent every day of my life trying to be somebody else. I didn’t know who I was. I hated my body and my mind. I hated my personality and my instincts. I hated my laziness. I hated my _dreams_ because they felt impossible. I hated the people I wanted to be. I hated anyone who tried to help me because it felt like charity,’ he says, ashamed. ‘I was angry _all_ the time and never knew why. And I was embarrassed by it. I made friends with a bad crowd and I started walking down the wrong path. I didn’t know what else to do. The world didn’t make sense to me.’  
  
Jiyong’s eyes water and he swallows the lump in his throat, but Seunghyun continues emotionally.  
  
‘That’s who I was for a _really_ long time. I was a bad friend, a bad brother, a worse son. I pushed back against the world and pushed everyone away from me. I thought I had no future. And then I met _you,’ _he says, ‘and I became myself. And that wasn’t because I grew up and got older, it was because of _you.’  
_  
‘What?’ Jiyong whispers.  
  
‘You rubbed off on me,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘Knowing you liked _me_ made me feel better about who I was. I stopped hating my body. I stopped hating my mind. I stopped hating people who had more than me. I started to cherish my dreams and all the things I was afraid to admit I wanted. You changed me. You made hard times feel rewarding instead of humiliating moments I had to re-live thinking I wasn’t good enough, because I was always doing that. I was never good enough. I was always measuring myself against an impossible ideal,’ Seunghyun says, beginning to cry. His voice cracks. ‘Then, you and I got together and I suddenly felt good enough. You made me _feel_ good enough. Not just good enough for you, but good enough for the world. I _was_ good enough to pursue my dreams. I _was_ good enough to speak and be heard. You changed everything for me. You were the first person who ever looked at me like I mattered, and because you looked at me that way? I did too. And I don’t think I ever told you how much that meant to me or how much that changed my life.’  
  
Jiyong physically shakes from reigning in his emotions. Despite it, he still has tears rolling down his cheeks and he sniffed his way through the last thirty seconds. Seunghyun’s voice is broken and he is speaking with so much heart, it floors him.  
  
‘I am a better person with you in my life,’ Seunghyun says emphatically, squeezing his hands. ‘I am the best possible version of me _because_ of you. You have given me _everything._ How can that not be love? How can I not love the person who made me _me?_ Because I _love_ who I am now. I love my life. I am so fucking _happy._ I’m sorry to swear in front of our parents, but I fucking love every second of my life because of what we have. Because I get to spend my life with you. I can’t say it differently. I never thought I could be happy like this or for so long. I never thought I could fall in love and _stay _in love with anything or anyone, but every single day I get to wake up and see your face beside me, I am so in love with the world. I can’t thank you enough for being in my life’.  
  
Seunghyun’s voice completely breaks at the end. He releases Jiyong’s hands so he can wipe the tears from his eyes. He sniffs them back and he releases a long and shaky exhale.  
  
‘I hope you’re the best version of yourself because of me as well,’ he jokes, voice still in pieces. ‘I think you’re pretty good as you are and I want to take some credit for it’.  
  
Jiyong laughs and cries at the same time. It feels like his heart is breaking but in the best possible way, because it’s overfull. Because he can’t be any more in love than he is right now. His parents laugh in the background in the same emotional way and Seunghyun wraps it up.  
  
‘I love you,’ Seunghyun says. ‘In ways nobody here can possibly understand. I _love_ you. You are everything to me. I _meant_ it when I said you were my other half. I wouldn’t be complete without you. There is nothing I care about more than you. Sometimes I think that’s unhealthy, but I don’t give a shit. I’ll keep loving you just like this’.  
  
Seunghyun leans down and Jiyong instinctively meets him. They share a kiss with tears streaming down their faces. Jiyong holds Seunghyun’s cheeks tenderly between his two hands and forgets that they aren’t alone. He wants to sear this moment into his heart and mind. He is overwhelmed by love. It’s a feeling he can’t describe.  
  
Jiyong pulls back a little and sniffs back his tears, shoving Seunghyun gently backwards.  
  
‘How have you upstaged me at a surprise wedding with no preparation to write your vows? You_ dickhead.’  
_  
Seunghyun laughs and to Jiyong’s surprise, a bizarre little round of applause surrounds them. When he looks at the faces of his family, all their faces are wet. To his even greater surprise, so are the faces of Seunghyun’s mother and sister. His father’s eyes glisten faintly in the light.  
  
‘I could never upstage you,’ Seunghyun smiles widely.  
  
‘But you _have,_’ Jiyong says guiltily, ‘because I spent weeks trying to write my vows and I have nothing. I threw away everything I wrote. Nothing sounded good enough, so like you I don’t have anything prepared. I planned this whole wedding but couldn’t do the most important part.’  
  
Seunghyun looks at him tenderly and with such open devotion, Jiyong’s lip trembles again. He looks at his feet for a moment. His feelings overwhelm him. Now, he really understands the significance of this moment. This little wedding ceremony isn’t about bringing Seunghyun and his parents closer together. It isn’t about forcing unity and understanding between their families. It’s about Seunghyun. It’s about their life together and their future and making this one last commitment in front of the people they love.  
  
With that heavy thought in his heart, Jiyong lifts his head and tries to do what Seunghyun did. He speaks from the heart. When they are both dead and gone, he wants to know that someone else in the world knew how he felt. He takes Seunghyun’s hands in his again. His voice trembles from the first word.

  
‘I didn’t _exist_ until I loved you’.  
  
Seunghyun’s reaction is immediate. They will spend the whole night crying. There’s no way around it.  
  
‘When I was younger,’ Jiyong continues carefully, ‘I fell in love every week with the girl next door, the girls at school, the actresses I liked on television. I was really in love with BoA,’ he says emphatically. Seunghyun laughs quietly and Jiyong continues. ‘I would fall in love with people on the street and walk home imagining what would happen if we turned around at the same time. I was in love with love.’  
  
When he was a kid and his friends were maddened at the idea of having to kiss a girl someday, he was dreaming about marriage. He wanted a family of his own. His home life had always been so warm and full of love. He wanted that for himself. Maybe his romanticism helped facilitate his relationship with Seunghyun. It’s true, they never talked about it while it was happening. Jiyong spent so many long nights fantasising about a future full of love that when Seunghyun blew into his life, love was expected.  
  
‘I was in love with love,’ Jiyong says again, ‘but I didn’t know what love was. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know real happiness or sadness, real anxiety or anticipation, real anger or disappointment. Nothing felt real until I felt it for you. Good and bad, every second of our life together has made the world _real_ to me’.  
  
He sniffs back tears for the hundredth time and tries to stay in control, but he can’t.  
  
‘You make me feel stronger _and_ weaker,’ he continues, voice wavering with emotion. ‘When I felt arrogant and invincible, you were the only person who made me feel vulnerable. And when I was at my lowest moments and couldn’t see the light, you were the only person who could remind me of my strength. You make me feel fearless _and_ afraid. Fearless because, with you, I know I can face anything. Afraid because I know I can’t survive without you.’  
  
Seunghyun’s face crumples into a well of emotion. He quietly cries and the light plays off his tears. Even now, he is handsome and beautiful. Jiyong smiles in awe of him.  
  
‘I_ am_ the best version of me because of you,’ Jiyong says, mirroring Seunghyun’s vows. ‘I’m _still_ in love with love and every day of my life I get to channel my love into somebody who is worth it. That’s such a _gift_ to me. I never thought I could be so happy trying to make somebody else happy. Your happiness is my happiness and your sadness is my sadness so I believe you when you say we’re two parts of a whole. If anything, you are the _best_ part. You are the best half of me, Choi Seunghyun. I couldn’t love you this much if you weren’t’.  
  
A shaky breath escapes him and he tries to control his voice but it’s hard because he’s overwhelmed and also devastated that he’ll never have the right words. No words will ever be good enough.  
  
‘I’ve spent two weeks trying to write these vows,’ he says, frustrated. ‘I thought I would have 10 pages of explanations and 1000 different reasons for loving you, but nothing I wrote felt good enough. I hope you’ll forgive me if I just say: There is nothing I want more in this world than to be your husband and to spend the rest of my life with you. I _love_ you. I have never been so sure of _anything_ except knowing that I will love you until the day I die. So, let’s get married and make it official, okay?’  
  
A sob slips past Seunghyun’s lips and he hangs his head for a moment, just long enough for Jiyong to watch a tear fall from his lashes onto the ground. But then Seunghyun lifts his head and through his tears, unbridled love and gratitude shine out. Jiyong knows exactly how he feels.  
  
Dami, with tears on her own cheeks, says ‘Alright! _Let’s do this!’_ and edges a step closer.  
  
‘Choi Seunghyun, do you take Kwon Jiyong to be your husband from this day forward, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? Do you promise to take care of him and make him happy, to never go to bed angry, to value him, and to protect him from harm _because if you don’t, I’ll find you and kill you?’  
_  
Seunghyun laughs emotionally but nods.  
  
‘Of course I do’.  
  
Jiyong sobs the second it passes Seunghyun’s lips, and after that, he can’t stop sobbing. Everything hits him at once and even though this is the worlds shortest and least attended wedding, he has never been so happy.  
  
‘Kwon Jiyong,’ Dami says. ‘Do you take Choi Seunghyun to be your husband from this day forward, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? Do you promise to nurture his dreams and encourage his pursuits, and always fight for him _because if you don’t, I’ll find you and kill you?’  
  
_Jiyong laughs now and nods.  
  
‘I do’.  
  
‘Well,’ Dami exclaims, throwing her arms up. ‘We, the people who _love_ you, officially name you married. Kiss your husband!’  
  
For a moment they hesitate, Jiyong because he can’t quite fathom what they’ve just done. But their faces both crack at the same time and they come together. Seunghyun’s arms fold around him and Jiyong holds onto Seunghyun’s shirt and they kiss like they have never kissed in front of anyone before. Like two people who love each other and can’t believe their luck. This isn’t a peck or a fleeting touch like they’ve always done in front of Jiyong’s parents, it’s just--- _real,_ and it’s beautiful and it means everything.  
  
When they separate, Seunghyun pulls Jiyong into his arms and whispers into his hair.  
  
‘Thank-you. For _doing_ this. I love you.’  
  
Jiyong gives him another chaste kiss before they turn to face their families. Dami throws her arms around both of them at once and showers sentimental love and praise on them. She somehow manages to throw Jiyong into his parents arms afterwards and Seunghyun into _his_ family. So, for a few minutes, Jiyong is in a tangled mess of arms and hugs, fielding his parent’s affection. He is touched to realize that both of them cried and were moved by their messy vows. He can’t thank them enough times for setting everything up, for loving him, for supporting him, for being the best fucking parents he could ever ask for.  
  
When the conversation eases for a moment, Jiyong turns to Seunghyun and sees his mother wiping her eyes with a tissue and his father’s hand awkwardly sitting on his shoulder. They are not as openly and demonstratively affectionate as his own parents are but it’s _something._ Nobody left, and they _felt _something. What a step in the right direction!  
  
Seunghyun notices him looking and gestures him to come over. Jiyong’s heart pounds in his chest but he joins Seunghyun and his family. Hyeyoon gives him a gentle but sincere hug and her husband shakes his hand. They tell him it was a lovely ceremony and thank him for inviting them. Seunghyun’s mother nods, her eyes still full of tears. It’s hard to tell how many of them are for the ceremony and how many are based on guilt because he can see that inside her.  
  
‘It was—a very _nice_ ceremony,’ she says quietly. ‘Thank-you for having us. Your speeches were both … very beautiful,’ she whispers. And in there, is some real sincerity. Jiyong is touched by it.  
  
She nudges Seunghyun’s father to say something and Jiyong is startled by the hand that shoots out between them. After his shock passes, Jiyong shakes the hand of Seunghyun’s father, who doesn’t speak to him but nods in an overly masculine way. In this, Jiyong can see love too. He loves his son. He does want him to be happy.  
  
‘Thank-you for coming,’ Jiyong says emphatically. ‘I’m glad you’re here’.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
  
For an hour, they all stay outside. Their families intermingle. His own father manages to keep Seunghyun’s father awkwardly occupied for the bulk of it. Their sisters talk. Their mothers talk. The music gets louder so they can have a modicum of privacy.  
  
Jiyong smiles when he finds himself pushed aside so his parents can dance to a romantic song. He is even more surprised to see Hyeyoon force her parents into doing the same thing. So, he and Seunghyun slink into a corner with held hands and watch the world’s most unlikely sight. Their parents slow dancing on their patio.  
  
‘How did you pull this off?’ Seunghyun asks, lips to his ear. ‘How did you get my parents here?’  
  
Jiyong grimaces but turns so he can speak into Seunghyun’s ear. He tells the truth.  
  
‘I went to their house a few weeks ago without telling you. I made a photo album and gave it to your mother. I wanted them to know you had a good life with me. I don’t know. I wanted things to be better for you with them. I might have yelled a bit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, but I guess I’m glad I did, because they came._’  
_  
Seunghyun looks shocked at first but not angry like Jiyong feared. Seunghyun gets close again so they can hear each other.  
  
_‘Yelled_ a bit?’  
  
Jiyong blushes and shrugs.  
  
‘Maybe I started by telling nice stories about our life and when I didn’t get the answers I expected, I lost my temper a little bit and fought for you a little too hard. Your dad escorted me out of the house.’  
  
Seunghyun looks across at his father who’s still dancing with his mother.  
  
‘You yelled at my_ Dad?’_  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Jiyong answers. ‘I shouldn’t have talked to them without asking you. I had good intentions but things went _awry._ Are you mad?’  
  
Seunghyun laughs.  
  
‘I want the whole story later, but how can I be mad? Look what you’ve done,’ he says gesturing at the scene in front of them. ‘Things are still tense but thirty minutes ago my father told me he wanted me to be happy. I couldn’t fucking believe it. I thought I was having a stroke. So i’m not mad,’ he says. ‘I’m grateful’.  
  
Jiyong smiles and squeezes Seunghyun’s fingers.  
  
‘Do you think you guys will be okay?’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Seunghyun answers. ‘I guess so. It will take time but we have to start somewhere. I’m glad you sprung this on me. If you’d asked me if I wanted them here, I think I would have said no. I was too angry. But I’m _glad_ they came. I’m glad they got to see this. I think they _had_ to see this.’  
  
Jiyong rests his head on Seunghyun’s shoulder and for a while, they watch their families dance and talk.  
  
  
  
* * *  
  
  
A few hours later, everyone is in bed. Seunghyun’s parents have gone to spend the night at a hotel in town, but everyone else is tucked away in a guest room, sleeping the night away.  
  
He and Seunghyun are still on the patio. The lights are still on and the music is still playing quietly in the background. They are standing together at one of the tables, absorbing the warmth from the outdoor heater. They have been talking for a while, about nothing in particular. Before that, they danced with each other in silence. It was nice. Peaceful.  
  
Now, Jiyong walks to the arch so he can pluck off a daisy for posterity. He’ll smush it between two books until it’s dried. Maybe he’ll frame it. A nice momento instead of a wedding certificate.  
  
‘Careful,’ Seunghyun warns. ‘I don’t want you to _slip_ over there. I cried out half my body weight under that arch.’  
  
Jiyong laughs and slaps a hand over his mouth to quiet it.  
  
‘I cried more than you,’ he answers, pocketing a particularly nice daisy. ‘Actually, I don’t think you cried _enough. _Look at this beautiful wedding I threw together. Look at these lights! These flowers! I said _such nice things_ about you. I can’t help but think I love _you_ more than you love me.’  
  
Seunghyun answers dryly.  
  
‘Must be true’.  
  
Jiyong scoffs and shoves him so Seunghyun’s elbow falls off the table and puts him off balance.  
  
‘Oh my God,’ Seunghyun answers dramatically. ‘Is this what being married to you is like?’  
  
‘It _is’.  
  
_‘Well, I’ve made a mistake.’  
  
‘What? Not marrying me sooner?’  
  
Seunghyun grins a _stupid_ grin and pulls Jiyong into his chest. He wraps his arms around him and kisses the top of his head. For a while, they don’t say anything. They just absorb the warmth from each other’s bodies. They may never get another wedding night. More than that, their patio will never look this nice again. They both want to enjoy for as long as they can. But, time passes and the excitement of the night has made them both prematurely tired.  
  
Seunghyun has to be up early in the morning. He is going to have breakfast with his parents at the hotel. Jiyong will have to do the same here at home. With five guests spending the night, he’ll have to be a good host and whip something up for them in the morning.  
  
Seunghyun, sensing their mutual tiredness kisses Jiyong on the forehead one last time.  
  
‘Well, ball and chain. I think it’s time we go to bed.’  
  
_‘Ball and chain?_ I thought I was your other half,’ Jiyong asks. ‘Torn from your flesh by Zeus himself until we found each other again.’  
  
‘That was _before_ we got married,’ Seunghyun answers seriously. ‘It all goes downhill once you’re married. All married people are miserable. It’s just facts, you know?’  
  
Jiyong wraps his arm around Seunghyun’s waist and nods knowingly as they walk back inside together.  
  
‘Well, I can’t wait to make you miserable,’ he answers, ‘every day for the rest of your life, as your miserable husband.’  
  
Seunghyun smiles.  
  
‘As a miserable husband myself, I’d like that.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's bad form to write messages like this but this is unequivocally the worst thing I've ever written and I'm very sorry to end the series this way, but I just struggled so much to make it any better. The more I tried to fix it, the worse it became. My brain said no. 
> 
> All the same, i think this probably IS the final part of this series, so I just want to thank everybody who read it and left comments, and everyone who left kudos. You're the only reason anyone writes fic at all. It really is beyond appreciated when you take the time. Thank-you for all of it! 
> 
> I also think this is probably the last thing I'll write in fandom as a whole, so I also want to thank people in a more general sense for reading my fics over the years. It's been ten years since I wrote my first GTOP fic and even though I didn't write that many stories over the years, those first few years especially really made my time in fandom very special. All the engagement and interactions and fun I had with everybody meant a lot to me. To recognise a handful of usernames after years and years too, still reading and commenting was more than I deserved.
> 
> Thank-you all for everything!! xoxoxox


End file.
